Kaleidoscope of Magic
by karldin
Summary: Pain and misery, the two constants in Harry Potter's life awaken in him something that has not been seen for several centuries. Will it mean the salvation of the magical world, or will it be its dissolution to nothingness?
1. Chapter 1

KALEIDOSCOPE OF MAGIC

CHAPTER 1

**AZKABAN PRISON**

Chilling wind blew through Azkaban, bringing unbearable cold to the inmates and jailors. It did not matter, though.

The Jailors of the Wizard prison thrived in the cold, and most of the inmates were too far gone to notice the weather.

But not all of them.

In a dank cell in one of the prisons near the basement, lay a nearly fourteen year old boy shivering as the Dementors prowled outside his cell.

This was the worst place for Harry Potter, who had nothing but misery in his life. He shivered even more, feeling an odd stinging in his eyes.

And he dreamt, of the past and his memories.

_He lay in his hospital bed, triumphant after rescuing Sirius. His godfather was free! He gave Hermione an elated look, which she returned happily._

_He couldn't believe that their audacity had actually borne fruit. Riding a hippogriff to rescue Sirius? He was a magnet for the strangest occurrences, not to mention trouble._

_The doors of the Hospital wing suddenly slammed open, revealing Snape, Dumbledore, and the minister himself._

_Cornelius Fudge._

_Harry mentally cringed as he spied the utter fury on Snape's face. The greasy haired potions professor walked up to him and shook him awake, hard._

_"OUT WITH IT POTTER! IT WAS YOU! I KNOW IT WAS YOU! WHAT DID YOU DO?" he roared causing Madam Pomfrey to come barrelling into the ward._

_"Professor, please-"_

_"QUIET, WOMAN!" shouted Snape, not even looking at the matron. He stared directly at Harry and shook him hard._

_"I know you helped Black escape, potter. You and your filthy friends. Now tell me. What. Did. You. Do?" he asked icily._

_Dumbledore and Fudge came up to the infuriated Potions Master, the latter looking at the greasy haired man as if he were unhinged._

_"Severus, calm down. Indeed we need the truth from these children. It is a matter of alarm that Black escaped once more, that too from Hogwarts containment. Cornelius, do I have your approval for the administration of Veritaserum?"_

_Hermione shot up from her bed, horror written upon her face. They were going to administer Veritaserum, to a minor? What was Dumbledore doing? If Harry swallowed that potion, he would implicate them all!_

_"Professor Dumbledore, you cannot! Veritaserum cannot be administered to minors without the approval of…" she trailed off, looking at Fudge with fear._

_Dumbledore shot a sad look at the betrayed Hermione, before turning back to Snape, who seemed to have mixed emotions in him. The potions master showed a considerable amount of happiness and…was that regret?_

_Harry sat stunned through these proceedings. What was Dumbledore up to? He could hardly think! Ron was as usual, asleep._

_"Cornelius, can you please get us Amelia? Severus, get the potion. I will stay here."_

_The two nodded, Snape staring at Dumbledore a moment longer before leaving, his cloak billowing around him._

_Dumbledore dismissed Pomfrey, and turned back to the trio. He raised his wand and pointed it at Harry, who could not move. Hermione was watching with wide eyes._

_"Supprimere et memoriam horum!"_

_Harry glowed gold, and he felt woozy. He suddenly felt something wrong with his mind. There was something in with him in his head…restraining, guarding._

_"Quiesco" murmured Dumbledore, raising his wand at Hermione who promptly fell asleep. Her breathing became relaxed._

_"Professor, what are you doing?" asked Harry, who could not hide his extreme anxiety._

_Dumbledore looked him in the eyes, causing Harry to gasp. The Headmaster showed emotions Harry had never seen before in the man._

_Fear, self-loathing, regret all mixed into something reprehensible. It was causing Harry's fear to rise._

_"Harry, remember this carefully. I always endeavour to help you. I am doing this for you, to protect you. Follow my lead, and do not interrupt."_

_Harry only stared dumbly._

_The minister for Magic came with a stately-looking yet stern woman. Snape came back with a bottle of clear liquid._

_"Get on with it, Dumbledore" said the woman, looking at Harry sharply._

_Snape walked to Harry, and roughly tipped the liquid in his mouth. The woman came up to stand in front of him._

_Harry felt as if he was floating in the clouds, felt blank and obedient and as if he, the entirety of Harry Potter was on display for the world to see. But the force, the thing Dumbledore had put in his mind was still there._

_"Is your name Harry Potter?"_

_"Yes"_

_"Tell us what happened yesterday with Black."_

Harry woke up, the pain in his eyes getting too much. The horrible effect of the Dementors was taking its toll on him. He could not even summon anger for what Dumbledore had done to him.

He could not even feel sadness as he remembered his friends, who cried that he was innocent. Hermione and Ron had yelled and screamed, shouting his innocence to the minister to no avail.

Harry could feel the Dementors gathering outside his cell, and their coldness washed over him. The moment he felt even a shred of emotion return, they gathered around to lap it up like starved dogs.

Harry Potter was broken. Broken beyond recognition. He could feel whatever love he had for his friends leaving.

He was cold, both in body and mind. Cold and empty.

The pain in his eyes was now becoming unbearable. It felt as if they were being gouged out, burned from the inside.

The Dementors were all gathering outside his cell door. Harry could not stand the effect of so many Dementors together and the pain of his eyes.

Inexplicably, it happened.

He felt it returning. His anger, his hatred. More than he could have ever imagined. More than the malice even his scar exuded.

His scar pulsed painfully, throbbing in beat with his eyes. His brain felt like it was on fire.

The hatred in him grew, as he remembered how Dumbledore and Fudge had just chucked him into prison, no trial. Nothing.

It was as if they had wanted him there. The magic ran through his body like magma through a volcano.

His scar felt like someone had branded him where it lay. He could dimly feel something drifting out of his scar.

They had asked no one, told no one. Not even the other Hogwarts staff or the media. They had termed it a secret incarceration, and just thrown him in. Hermione and Ron were sworn to secrecy, he did not know how.

Men in black robes and hoods had taken him, and thrown him in this cell.

Pure clear hatred. That was what filled him to the brim, and the Dementors could not consume it. It was as if someone had lit a bright fire in him, a conflagration before which the Dementors' effects just paled.

Fire exploded from the young Potter as he screamed, turning the meagre furniture in the cell into ashes. The Dementors began to screech outside, unable to stand the fire that filled the cell completely.

Harry began to lose consciousness, the world blacking out. He felt his eyes throb one last time, the pain in them receding mercifully.

He fell down hard, fully unconscious.

…

It was _clear_.

The world was clear. So clear. He could see the individual dust particles floating in the wind, the texture of the burnt prison cell. He could see.

_He could see…_.everything.

Azkaban. That was where he was. As he remembered how he got here, he felt no raging hatred and unbalancing sadness.

No.

He felt cold and in control, like he could see himself the way he now saw the world. His hatred felt like a sharp blade, not a raging fire. His mind felt fluid and clear. Something was different.

Very different.

He could not feel the Dementors. Oh, he felt them crowding around as usual, but he did not accept the misery they forced upon him.

It was like he could cast that away. Something was different with his eyes.

And his body. He could feel the magic running through it like a torrent. It was the same feeling he had gotten when he had cast the Patronus to drive one hundred Dementors away.

But now he had the feeling without his wand. The doors of his cell banged open, and a dozen Dementors flooded in.

He stared at them and saw the black voids that they were. He could see the foreign magic that flowed through their body, and he saw through their despair to what made their very fabric. Their despair did not affect him, he could see through it.

His eyes…

"You look ridiculous", he said.

The Dementor nearest to him floated and lowered its head.

Harry felt no alarm, it was only a fact registered. He had to drive them out or get his soul sucked.

He raised his pale and thin hand, palm outwards.

"_Expecto Patronum!"_

White light exploded out of his palm, drenching the Dementors. They screeched in unison and fled out of the room back to the bleakness of Azkaban , shrieking in agony.

_Intriguing. I do not need a wand anymore…as if my body itself embodies my magic. But I feel tired. Very much so. The Patronus, it felt different. I did not need happiness to create it anymore, only intent._

Harry sat down tiredly on the floor, considering. Too many things had happened too fast. He looked down at his body, seeing properly for the first time the abhorrent state of his body.

He was basically a stick. Pale and sickly, and dirty. But the magic was there.

He stared around the room, and removed his glasses. Perfect. His vision was perfect.

He doubted even a hawk could see better than he did now. It was as if a switch had been thrown in his brain, giving him this preternatural clarity and sense.

The way he now thought stunned him. Dumbledore and fudge were not relevant until he got out of here, and it should not be as a fugitive. He had no intention of living a life like Sirius.

His mind went back to when Dumbledore and Fudge saw him off at the gates of Azkaban.

_"Harry, I know you hate me. Understand, the law is to be followed and cannot be broken for anybody. Not even you. This is your punishment."_

_Dumbledore had a small tear flowing down his face._

_"I thought you did not throw minors into Azkaban, Fudge?" Harry asked in a dead voice. _

_Fudge looked as if he had aged a hundred years. Then he suddenly seemed to bloat up in anger._

_"I am the minister of Magic, boy! You need to be taught a little lesson. You will stay in Azkaban till the next school term. Happy summer break, Potter! Take him away!"_

_Dementors came and dragged away a defeated Harry Potter._

_As Harry looked back, he saw Dumbledore freely shedding tears, and Fudge looked like he was about to._

Their actions against him were forced, he mused. They had chucked him into prison for a reason, and knew it was not for aiding and abetting Sirius.

Dumbledore had suppressed his own involvement in the affair by making it seem as if it was all Harry's idea. He could not utter Dumbledore's involvement even after drinking the Veritaserum.

Why was he here only for the summer? That seemed odd. Eight weeks of wrongful imprisonment? Why would they do that, even if they knew that once he was out, they would be implicated?

He laid himself on the floor, looking at the ceiling. Azkaban was a dreary place.

But it was no longer horrifying and cold. Not to him. The Dementors did not affect him anymore for some reason, and it had to do with his eyes. They felt powerful, as if the magic that his body now contained emanated from them.

Something had changed his eyes. If only he had a mirror. Too bad he did not know conjuration yet.

He sat back up, and began thinking. He had four more weeks in this place. Then…then he would take care of everything.

…..

"It has happened, Albus. He has awakened them. Should we get him out?", asked a hooded man who had just gotten out of the floo.

Dumbledore sat behind his desk in his beautiful office, looking at the man pensively.

"We have four more weeks. Describe his eyes, now!"

The man looked at the headmaster, his face a study in wonder.

"Albus, his eyes are no longer emerald like his mother but they are black. Shining coal black. And when he channels magic to them…"

Albus beckoned the man to continue, a desperate look upon his face.

"They turn red. A blazing red with single commas in them. Why doesn't he have all three…that is how it should be!"

Dumbledore felt relieved beyond measure. Harry had done it. He had done it at last.

"In Azkaban, there is enough misery to accelerate its maturing. To awaken those legendary eyes after so many centuries…"

"Albus, you do not understand. He has magic running through his very veins, and can use it wandlessly. The Dementors have little effect on him, now. We have to do it…"

Dumbledore looked as if he had aged another hundred years, the pain was apparent in his face.

"I suppose…I suppose it cannot be helped. He is the one. Alert the Department, Bode. They have my authorization. And it is time to recall _them_…", he said meaningfully.

Bode nodded.

"It will be done, Albus. How do you intend to explain yourself to Potter?"

Albus Dumbledore stood and walked to the window.

"I will tell him the truth. He would never forgive me, Bode. But he won't turn out like Tom. Sometimes I wonder, if I am the monster for taking away so much from Harry and causing him such pain, if I am just another Tom Riddle…"

Bode nodded again. They were monsters indeed, Albus and the department. But if that was what they needed to be to save magical Britain, then so be it.

…..

Harry stood in his cell. Today was the day. He felt pure.

He owed Dumbledore pain. The way those hooded men had tortured him…He had gained a pain tolerance that was alarming. He had learned to look through the pain, to disregard it at will.

_It was after the day he had driven out the Dementors with no wand. They had slipped a tray of food in, and he had eaten readily._

_And promptly fell asleep._

_When next he woke, it was in a dark cell. He had found that if he stopped channelling magic to his eyes, his extreme perception and immunity to Dementors would lessen considerably._

_He was shackled, and felt a wand tip at his forehead. He could still use magic, but it was of no use. It was only a trickle. _

_He activated his eyes again, trying to look through the darkness. He could see a tall man open his mouth, and he could see the bright strands of magic that poured out of the wand tip at his forehead._

_"Crucio!"_

_Harry screamed and screamed, trying to break out of his shackles. White hot knives tearing at his body, his mind pierced by a thousand poisoned needles…he felt it all._

_He screamed until his throat was sore, then screamed even more. The pain was all consuming, absolute._

_The pain suddenly stopped, and Harry looked up dimly from his shackled position. He was hurting…everywhere. He cursed his parents for bringing him into this world._

_He saw his torturer raise his wand, and he could observe the minute changes in his body language. The man was clearly not used to this. His eyes could pick out every fluctuation in his emotions through his actions._

_The wand pointed at him again._

_"Crucio!"_

_The world went red once more, and he resumed his screaming._

They had tortured him two hours a day, until he could clearly see how the strands of magic were molded. He could see how the curse effected him, and he tried to use his own magic to lessen its coherence.

He had managed to bring down the pain he felt by corrupting the magic of the curse with his own.

After torturing him with curses for about fifteen days, they threw him into a room where five hooded figures beat him physically.

The first five days, he was a mess of broken bones and bloodied but he was always healed by them for the next day.

He stopped caring about his situation. His mind gained only one prerogative.

React and survive. Never trust. The notion was burned in his brain. Never ever would he trust or assume again.

The eighth day of his beatings, it was different.

He could clearly see how the magic flowed through each person, and how they moved. He could copy the way they moved, and predict their moves by the minute tensions in their muscles.

They had pounced on him seeking to beat him down again, but it was in vain. Their moves were _obvious_.

Their punches were dodged and they attacked him swiftly. He could tell these were professionals, highly trained. They attacked with elegance and grace, and he copied their grace and movements, adapting at the speed of lightning.

Those five were paralyzed or dead. He had broken every single bone in their limbs and damaged their spines with the precision of a surgeon.

The tortures had stopped after that. It was then he knew. His eyes were more powerful than should be possible. With them, he had no need for a wand.

He had been forged into something…he did not know what. It had occurred to him that conspicuously after every torture session, his perception with his eyes had grown clearer.

Now, it was unbelievable. To see _everything_ and understand it rapidly, to copy it.

His mind had made the connections fast, and he had long since concluded that this summer's imprisonment had to do with him awakening his eyes.

Along with his eyes came a state of mind he had felt only twice.

Once, when he had fought to death against Quirrell and once when he faced the Basilisk.

It was raging instinct and absolute control at the same time. He was the master of his emotions, not the other way around.

The doors to his cell opened.

"Harry Potter, inmate number 300. You have served your sentence diligently and are now about to be freed. Sign this paper, and accompany us to the edge of the Island. There will be someone to collect you."

Oh. It was his final day of imprisonment. Odd, he found that he did not care anymore. He was not peaceful, but cold and hard.

But most of all he felt clarity. His imprisonment had taught him one thing. He was weak. Weak beyond measure. He was disgusted by his former self, how he used to be. Lazy, procrastinating…and a slave to his own whims and desires.

Pathetic. Anyway, he signed the document stating his freedom and walked with the man, leaving his cell once and for all. He would burn the world to ashes before he returned here.

The man led him through the melancholy corridors of Azkaban, before stopping at a door. He turned to him.

"Before you go, , know that I am sorry what you have endured here. This is no place for children, no matter their crime. You have my sincerest apologies."

Harry nodded to him. Truly, he felt no malice for this place. Except for the certain knowledge that he would burn it.

It had turned him into someone unique. He saw the uselessness of unnecessary emotion. Do not feel emotion, only use it.

He opened the door and walked through it. Waiting in front of him were the two people responsible, Dumbledore and Fudge. They only looked at him, obviously unable to speak.

Harry had changed too much from his short imprisonment. The boy who was once short, had grown several inches taller. His hair had lengthened and he now sported a mane of black hair that fell down to his shoulders.

But Dumbledore was struck to the core by the boy's eyes. True, they were black naturally now, not the emerald green. But they gave away nothing, no emotions or fluctuation.

Nothing.

It was as if his mind was a void. That was all his Legilimency picked up. He could penetrate further, but he did not.

"Hello, Professor. Minister. I liked my accommodations and entertainment for this summer. I will make sure you enjoy the same, someday. You have my word on that", smiled Harry.

Dumbledore grimaced, as did Fudge. They did not know what the department had done to accelerate the process, and they did not want to know.

All Dumbledore could do was explain completely, and hope that Harry would understand. Oh, he did not expect forgiveness.

He did not deserve it. None of them did. But they would save their people at any cost, even one as high as this.

"Harry. As you have no doubt deduced, you were thrown in here for a reason. It is not on record. Except for your friends and some select people, the world thinks you were in Privet Drive. Allow me to explain why this was done to you, and then you can do what you wish to me. I daresay I have earned it."

Harry was still smiling. Amusing. The old traitor obviously had some more lies to tell him.

No matter. He was hardly strong enough to take on Dumbledore and Fudge. Not yet. But he would be.

"Let's go, Professor."

Dumbledore nodded, and grasped his arm causing them to disapparate. Fudge looked on sadly.

He cursed the day he had taken this job, and he cursed the Department for concocting this plan and disapparated.

…

The headmaster's office was the same as usual.

Harry looked at Dumbledore. The old man had seated himself in his chair, and looked at Harry.

"Do you hate me?"

Harry considered the question. It may sound stupid, but it was really not. Dumbledore could glean everything important about his state of mind from this conversation.

"No. I do not hate you. But I think you should die painfully, screaming your agony."

Dumbledore flinched at the casual way in which the young boy said those words.

"Would you kill me that way right now? If I allowed you…"

Harry shook his head, and activated his eyes. Dumbledore gasped, and conjured a mirror for Harry's benefit. The boy's eyes widened. Staring back at him were eyes of blazing red, three black commas marking them at equal intervals. The pupils were the normal white.

The prophecies were being fulfilled.

"You are a traitor. The death of people like you should benefit me, not harm me. That, and I can see your magic. It is practically leaking off you, saturating the air. You are too strong for me as of now, traitor.", Harry said calmly.

Dumbledore looked sad as the boy he thought of as a grandson called him traitor. With good reason, of course.

"I will explain everything, Harry. I know the utter pain you have experienced in your life, and it is all down to me. Me and the Department, and some others who you will meet shortly."

Harry looked at the old man in interest. He might be a traitor, but he could be used. No one could fool him anymore with the eyes he possessed.

"Department?" Harry asked.

"The Department of Mysteries. The most secret department in the entire Ministry. I lead it, along with two of my friends. Those eyes you have awakened are special, and they have been awakened only once in recorded history. Their origins are lost in time. They have a name."

"What is their name?" Harry asked. Dumbledore would be useful until Harry got strong enough to kill him. He would extract every drop of knowledge about his eyes, by whatever means necessary.

"_Sharingan_. One of your ancestors awakened these eyes, Arcturus Potter. He recorded that it was a dormant trait in the potter line, and was a gift of magic itself. Before you hear more of it, I would have you meet some people… people who by all rights should have been with you since your birth."

Harry looked at Dumbledore, his Sharingan picking up minute fluctuations in the man's body language. The headmaster was tense, and anticipatory. He braced himself.

The door opened to reveal two figures, one was quite tall and the other was shorter. Both wore hooded robes.

"Did you bring them?" asked Dumbledore. The two nodded, taking off their hoods.

Harry could not believe it. He concentrated with his eyes, channelling every bit of his magic, hoping beyond hope that this was a joke.

It was not.

Standing in front of him were two people who should by all rights be dead. The male had the same dark mop of hair as him, and hazel eyes. More importantly, he looked like a carbon copy of Harry.

_James Potter, his father_.

Next to him stood a very beautiful woman with flowing red hair. She had the same emerald eyes he himself used to have.

_Lily Potter, mother._

Harry's mind which had become cold as ice during his incarceration now froze even more. Hatred beyond hatred surged through his veins as he picked up the guilt the two figures obviously felt.

They could never hide from his eyes.

"Harry…" said Lily softly. James just watched the scene with mixed emotions along with Dumbledore. Harry could practically smell the stifling guilt in the room.

He hated them all. Oh, how he hated them. He wanted to torture them with that Cruciatus curse till they went insane. The way he nearly went insane due to Dumbledore.

"Do you hate me that much, Dumbledore? You get me abused for ten years, get me imprisoned for eight weeks and then tortured, and after all this reproduce my parents from nothing…"

Lily gasped with James, and looked at Harry with pity in her eyes. James shook his head as if he could not believe what he was hearing…

Harry too cried. Not normal tears, no. He cried tears of blood. Great fat tears of the red liquid rolled down his cheeks and his magic exploded.

"It's happening, Dumbledore! They are changing! We need to do it now!" shouted James.

"Yes, wait for it James. He is still conscious…"

They watched as Harry's Sharingan changed to a new shape. Three small circles with arcs connecting them in a triangular shape now sat in the centre of his red pupils.

Harry fell unconscious; the last thing he saw was James taking out a sealed cylindrical jar of liquid, and Lily and Dumbledore drawing their wands.

Oddly enough, the jar contained two eyeballs in them.

….

Harry woke up to the soft feel of the hospital wing's fluffy pillows. He felt…great. He opened his eyes, but found he could not see beyond the white cloth that blindfolded him.

His eyes felt strong, so much stronger than before that it was like comparing a pebble to a mountain. He doubted he would even understand their potential.

Curiosity overwhelmed him. Why were his eyes so special? Dumbledore had said-

_Dumbledore…James, Lily._

His rage exploded, causing the scrap of cloth to fall off burning with black flames. It did not extinguish till ashes.

The door opened violently, letting in the three figures he hated more than Voldemort himself. Lily potter rushed to him, and took his head in her palms.

Harry stared into his mother's eyes with an anger that was so pure that she flinched violently. Images flashed through his mind of how he wanted them all to die screaming at his hands, rip them apart, souls eaten, bones broken, tear asunder…

Lily was unable to look away from her son's eyes. Then she screamed, loosing every bit of air in her lungs. She screamed as she saw in her mind what Harry wanted to do to them…to his own parents. But that was nothing compared to Dumbledore's imagined fate…

Dumbledore immediately cast a silencing charm.

"Those eyes! It is those eyes. James, get her to break eye contact, now!"

James pulled the screaming Lily away, all the time looking regretfully at Harry. Lily stopped screaming, and started retching in the sink nearby.

Harry stared at them all, gaining a new epiphany. He did not care for their reasons. They were alive all this time, and had let him suffer to an extent no one should. He did not hate them, he realized. He would not waste emotion on them. No. He wanted to _hurt_ them. And he could not do that like this. He calmed his anger from a raging inferno to a sharp crystal knife.

He would laugh while they burned.

Lily stared at him, avoiding his eyes studiously. His perception had increased a hundredfold…he could see even the individual pores on their skin, see it breathing.

He could predict their actions to such a scale that it would seem like he could read the future. And he could see the magic permeating the air, and the people…to its lowest detail.

It was beautiful. The castle was a hue of multiple shining colours. His so called parents were not as strong as Dumbledore, who practically oozed magic, but they were still very strong.

But these eyes he had now…

He got up slowly, walking to the mirror at his bedside. His eyes had changed…changed from the three-comma Sharingan to a Sharingan of a complex shape.

It had a triangle-like shape, with arcs as sides and small circles as vertices. The circles were connected to the circumference of his pupil by lines.

He felt them, and knew that to master these eyes would take a long time. He could _feel_ their potential and the unfathomable depth of their power.

His own body's magic had increased considerably. He felt he could control it a lot better, and his reserves were also increased by a good amount.

Oh, he had forgotten his traitorous kin. Turning back to the three people he said,

"Explain"

Dumbledore came up to Harry, his wise old face showing infinite remorse.

"Your trials are at an end, Harry. The department will bother you no longer, except to help you in mastering those eyes of yours-"

Harry had enough. He had no wish to hear these people's voices, unless they screamed in agony.

"QUIET! I said explain!" Harry said coldly, causing the magic of the room to vibrate.

"Better, I can show you. Look into this basin, Harry. It is called a penseive. It contains past memories. You will understand after this…"

"Hmm…Dumbledore, you disgust me. Why should I trust you, you filthy traitor? Or those pathetic dregs who call themselves my parents?"

Dumbledore looked pained as he raised his wand. Lily and James looked like they had been stabbed in the gut.

"I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, swear in front of these witnesses and magic itself that I hold no ill will for Harry potter and that my actions were intended to help him. The Pensieve is trustworthy. So mote it be!"

Golden light settled around Dumbledore, and Harry's parents also made the same oath. Harry could see the magic of their oaths binding them tightly.

"Now will you look? I promise you will understand my actions and those of your parents'. Please Harry…"

Harry stopped channelling magic into his eyes, and felt it return back to its black. He knelt over and looked into the Pensieve.

Suddenly, he was standing in a large oval room with three people in them. Dumbledore had said they were memories only…

_"Lily, James…my congratulations to you. I hear you will have a child."_

_A much younger and happier Lily looked at the man who spoke. He looked hale and young, but his eyes spoke of experience and wisdom._

_"Yes, we will have a boy, Croaker. A boy! Isabelle will have a brother!" she said, a smile lighting her face._

_James encircled her with a one armed hug. _

_"I am so happy for you, Lily and James. So happy indeed…" said the old man, whom Lily had called Croaker. He had a disconcerting look of contemplation on his face._

The scene dissolved, forming a new environment. It was a new memory.

_James stood over Lily's bed, his wife holding a baby in her arms. Harry recognized Sirius, Professor Lupin and Peter Pettigrew looking with wonder at the infants. _

_"Hello, Hawwy ! I am your sister, Isabelle!", said a tiny girl with blonde hair. She was cute._

_Dumbledore appeared with a soft crack, looking happily at the infants. It was a family of utter love and happiness._

Harry teared up despite himself, he had an older sister? All this time…his heart was breaking as he saw a life he was denied.

_"Lily, James. Voldemort has ears everywhere, and has heard the prophecy. Move into Hogwarts with the children, immediately!"_

_The entire posse disappeared with expert apparition._

_The scene reformed into a new memory once more._

_Lily and James stood opposite Dumbledore with Sirius and Remus. Dumbledore pointed his hand at the Pensieve and a figure rose out of it…an unpleasantly familiar figure with large round glasses, looking like a beetle._

_Sybill Trelawney's spectre started reciting,_

_"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark lord approaches…Born when the seventh month dies…Born to those who have thrice defied him…The dark lord will mark him as his equal…But he shall have the power the Dark Lord knows not… Eyes of power and perception, through misery re-awakened…Eternal and unsurpassed, born through love destroyed…Born again to drive the darkness away…"_

_Dumbledore looked at the horrified parents with a sombre look. _

_"You know of the Arcturus legend, James. You know of the lost eyes. It was awakened only once in known history and evolved once. If your son can awaken it as well…then we can transplant the eyes of Arcturus left in the Potter vault on to him. We know that the blindness would not take him, then. Eternal and unsurpassed…"_

_James looked at Dumbledore with a horrified expression, Lily and the others looked desperately puzzled._

_"What do you mean…how can we make him experience misery…our own son? Do you know what it is you are asking?"_

_Croaker appeared behind them. Dumbledore must have given him access. _

_"Lily, James…Britain is falling. Voldemort knows of the prophecy. Me and Albus, we think you should leave England immediately as Voldemort will attack you any time now…please!"_

_"We cannot! Harry and Isabelle are too young to be on the run…they will be in danger!"_

_"Which is why you will be leaving Harry in the Department's care…we will see to it that he will awaken those eyes…"_

_There was absolute silence in the office as the group contemplated the horrifying notion._

_"How can you suggest us leaving our own baby son…to misery? Where would we go, anyway?" she asked coldly._

_"Our French division. You will begin to hypothesize the contents of the Arcturus tablet, James. It has to be done…Voldemort will come after you no matter what. So, save what you can…and leave little Harry to us. We know too well not to disregard prophecy…" Croaker said calmly._

_"What will happen to Harry?" asked James, thinking deeply._

_"We will let him live with Department operatives polyjuiced as you. But you must leave immediately and take Isabelle with you. Our French operatives will take you with them via Portkey once you have…said your goodbyes."_

_Sirius and Remus looked as if they could not believe what was happening. James looked like he wanted to break something._

_But Lily, Lily had a look of resolve on her face._

_"Do you swear, Croaker, by everything you hold dear that my son will be protected by the department no matter the cost. That Voldemort will not touch him? That we will be reunited once it is safe again?"_

_Croaker and Dumbledore raised their wands._

_"We so swear", a brilliant tongue of fire erupted from their wand tips binding all the occupants of the room together._

Harry was suddenly expelled out of the Pensieve his mind processing the memories and their implications fast.

He turned to James and Lily.

"Who were the operatives, then, who gave their lives for me when Voldemort attacked? I want their names."

"We do not know, s-Harry. They were deep undercover. I am so sorry…we both are…more than words can say, but we were the ones who deciphered the information about the eyes you currently possess.", James said to Harry as if that would assuage him.

Harry's eyes morphed to their evolved form and the magic in the air began rising once more.

"So…you were the ones responsible for my torture and incarceration at Azkaban?"

Lily gasped and started sobbing quietly, and James rounded on Dumbledore. But Harry scoffed.

"Save your act, James Potter. I know you feel extreme guilt for my suffering…but I can see clearly that you had something to do with the torture. It wasn't your idea, was it?"

James went pale, and then knelt in front of Harry and looked him in the eye.

"I forgot…you do not just have a Mangekyou Sharingan. Your eyes became eternal after the transplant of our ancestor's eyes. Harry…the only way you could be safe was to get the Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan. We feel, Harry, that your misery is worth the long life you will have…how can you be happy when you are dead? Thus, your life was the priority."

Harry looked at him, his eyes still not changing from their eternal state.

"You speak the truth. If only you knew the misery I went through…but you would know, wouldn't you?"

Lily knelt with James, facing their son. Their grown up son. The son who had awakened the legendary eyes in their ultimate form, albeit with help.

"Harry,. My baby…we are so sorry. I-I know we can never atone for your suffering…but please let us try. Please" asked Lily with her heart in her eyes.

Harry considered. There were too many details left out of their explanation. Casting them away in a fit of childish anger would be casting away an important resource.

The old him would have done that. But now…things were different. He would use and throw them away if necessary.

"What of that girl, Isabelle?" he asked coldly.

Lily looked pained.

"Harry, she is enrolled in Beauxbatons and she is currently sixteen. You can see her soon; she will be here at Hogwarts this year. She doesn't know of you, though...it...would be too painful…"

Lily and James saw immediately that this was the wrong thing to say to Harry.

Harry scoffed. They were no longer family to him. Family, no matter what the reason, did not abandon their only son to misery.

"I have no wish to see her. I have no wish to see you, either, except when I deem it fit. You sacrificed my childhood for reasons you think are acceptable. I will do the same with my filial bonds, Potter." Harry said coldly, watching his parents' faces crumble as he chose his hurtful words.

Let them hurt. In fact, they should hurt as much as possible and then more. He turned to Dumbledore. Dumbledore, however, deserved to burn.

"Professor Dumbledore, I know we have a little more than a week till term starts again. I would like to stay with the Weasley family till that time. And find out the names of the couple that sacrificed themselves for me. I want those names. Can I floo to the Weasleys'?"

Dumbledore, who looked sad beyond words, nodded.

Harry made to move towards the fireplace but James laid a hand on his shoulder. His…parents…were shedding tears freely at the tragic reunion.

"Harry…I know you hate us more than you can say…we deserve it and more. But please take this. It is the reason you are…our family is in such a state. It is the compilation of my entire research on the Sharingan…and the partial contents of the Arcturus tablet. Please read it, it will help you master those eyes eventually."

Harry took the thick volume, bound in white skin.

"Goodbye, Dumbledore. Potters."

Saying that, Harry disappeared with a burst of green fire through the fireplace, the last thing he saw was the utter misery on the faces of his parents.

Like he cared. He needed no one, now. His life had taught him that well. He had his eyes and his magic, running through him like a blazing fire.

He would never trust again, he thought, as he gracefully stepped out of the Weasley fireplace surprising himself. Trust was suffering.

He saw Molly Weasley look at him with absolute dismay, but no surprise. It seemed they were expecting him.

"Harry, you look so thin and pale! What have those muggles been doing to you? And that hair like Bill's…"she began ranting her displeasure at the muggles' mistreatment of Hrry.

_If only she knew._

The stairs echoed with the sound of multiple people flying down them. The family was here, thought Harry sardonically.

_Never trust. Never._

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Thank you for reading the story. I assure you it has only begun. There will be no Naruto crossover, only concepts that are borrowed from that awesome anime.**

**The story will be set purely in the HP world. And it is not your typical bashing story. It is a story of a bitter world, tough decisions and the misery they could engender. Not everything is in black and white, after all.**

**Stay tuned for more chapters, I will update as fast as possible.**

**Thank you again, for reading!**

**Regards,**

**Karldin.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for your encouragement! Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**Regards,**

**Karldin.**

CHAPTER 2

_Sharingan. The origin of the name is unknown, as is the name Mangekyo Sharingan. The eyes that were awakened by Arcturus potter during the thirteenth century is considered to be a fable in the Wizarding world, like the Deathly Hallows, or Merlin Emrys._

_These eyes made Arcturus Potter a wizard so exceptional that he was hailed as the second coming of Emrys himself. The fabled Sharingan is gives its possessor an ability to see magic itself, along with an ability to see through suggestions and illusory magic._

_The most feared known ability of these legendary eyes, however, is its ability to comprehend and copy the flow of magic, as well as the actions of the human. It gives a powerful edge in battle with its near precognition, as well as a way to counter spells by picking apart strands of magic, an ability that requires years of study even with those eyes._

_Arcturus Potter is documented to have found a tablet that describes the eyes and its attributes. Extreme feelings of loss catapult the Sharingan to its next stage of evolution, Mangekyo Sharingan, whose abilities are unique to the user. Arcturus Potter's abilities with those eyes are forgotten, but it is recorded that he was able to wipe out legions of attacking soldiers with them. Their abilities are not known, as no one who fought Arcturus when he activated those eyes lived to tell the tale._

_Arcturus Potter is recorded to have gone blind with the excessive use of his Mangekyo and died eventually. The goblins of Gringotts however uncovered letters of Arcturus addressed to his friend, and later the Goblin King Ragnok the first, which hypothesized that blindness from the Mangekyo can be avoided with the transplant of another pair of Sharingan eyes to the Mangekyo user._

_It is not known how Arcturus uncovered this, but it is assumed that it was known to him through the contents of the lost tablet._

_The power and abilities of these new eyes are unknown, but Arcturus calls them 'Eternal'. Whatever these eyes are, their potential and powers would be frightening in the extreme. It is fact that besides its own fearsome techniques, the basic abilities of the Sharingan would be amplified many times in these eyes._

_It is also extrapolated by Department researchers that the bearer of these Eternal eyes, or even Sharingan, would be able to use wandless magic effortlessly due to the high concentration of magic in their bodies. Much is unknown about the Eternal Mangekyo. _

_From Arcturus' life we hypothesize that the ability with the eyes grows with the skill of the wizard._

_These eyes are said to be a gift of Magic itself, and the eternal eyes' strength has been debated for centuries among magical scholars and recently by Department researchers._

_Arcturus documented in his secret writings, currently at the Department of Mysteries, the powers of the Mangekyo. These writings whose existence is known only within the department, and is actually read only by the Highest echelons of the Department, might provide clues to the nature of those fabled eyes._

_Arcturus whose name is synonymous with extreme power-_

"Harry", came Hermione's whispered voice causing Harry to close the book with a sigh. Staying with the Weasleys was better than the Dursleys or worse, the traitors.

They were in the Quidditch World Cup campsite, in a quaint tent set up by . Harry had immersed himself in the book James Potter had given him. It was useful information. Harry did not even look like Harry anymore, with black eyes, a mane of hair framing his face and descending to his shoulders. He was as tall as Ron, as lean as Percy and strong despite his appearance.

But it was the way he spoke and acted that alarmed them. It was deliberate, cold and calculating, something that was as out of place in the Weasley family as Dumbledore in a death eater cabal.

Harry had made no attempt to mask his changes. No. He would devote time to mastering his eyes and magic. There was so much to his eyes…He was making good progress through the book.

He knew what James was up to. He was dangling information in front of Harry, trying to reunite him with his 'family'. Harry wouldn't fall for it, not now. His mind was too mature and saw too deep. He would accomplish his goals by himself. No Potter would be associated with him again, except being his victims. But that day was a long time off. He needed to gather strength first.

"Harry, it's time to sleep. asked us all to go to sleep." Hermione said in a hushed voice. Of all his friends, only Hermione had remained by his side. Harry knew her to be trustworthy, he knew her to be fiercely loyal, even without the Sharingan.

Ron appeared to be hesitant to converse with this greatly changed Harry, even though he knew the truth that he had been imprisoned. Harry did not begrudge Ron his distance, he knew Ron was quite slow to adapt.

"I cannot sleep, Hermione. I cannot. Too many bad dreams…" said Harry honestly. A person could not go through life trusting no one, he knew that well. He could begin to trust Hermione, who had stayed by him always.

He would trust only her, though. Ron was too wild for his goals, too enslaved to personal whims. He was inadequate, in other words. Hermione was everything Ron was not.

"Do you want to go for a walk?", asked Hermione.

"Yes. I would like that."

The two friends got out of the tent, informing who asked them to return soon. They got out into the stunning campsite, adorned with shamrocks and thousands of tents.

Bulgaria against Ireland. Harry felt no inclination to play or see Quidditch. Power was paramount in the world.

The strong would trample the weak, play with them, torture them…it was all about the strongest. He had learned that in Azkaban.

He would become the most powerful sorcerer ever seen, more than even Myrddin Emrys or Arcturus Potter.

"_There is only power and those too weak to see it"_, he whispered. He understood what Voldemort had tried to tell him. He understood to his bones.

Hermione had gone pale. "Harry, what was that you said?"

"Hermione…Can I trust you?" he asked, activating his Sharingan.

He was behind Hermione, examining her body's reaction to her thoughts. She was admiring the moon with her back to him, and he could see no hesitation or deception in her. He took his risk, and his eyes morphed into the Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan.

"With your life, Harry." She said with resolve plain in her voice.

Harry sighed with relief. Still no deception, even with _these _eyes on her. His eyes went back to normal.

She was good.

"I believe you. To answer your question, I said that power is the most absolute thing in this world. It knows no bias or emotion, it is pure. It is unambiguous. Voldemort…was right in my first year…"

Hermione turned abruptly, and dragged an amused Harry through the campsite and a good distance into the surrounding woods. The chirp of the nocturnal creatures was enough to cover their conversation.

She whirled and faced him, her hands shaking.

"What did they _do _to you? The Dementors would never drive you to this! You have become like a cold assassin, like a warrior from what I have seen of you. You look worse than Sirius did when he returned…", she said in a distraught voice.

Harry looked at Hermione closely. If he had to trust anyone, it would be her. He could never accomplish his goals alone, however powerful he became.

"What do you know of the Cruciatus curse, Hermione?"

Hermione gasped, tears falling down her face. How could they…hadn't he suffered enough?

"They didn't…" she whispered. She couldn't think. She didn't want to.

"They did. Fifteen days of it, two hours each day. Then they beat me nearly to death for another ten days. I was fed well, though…"

Anguish and pain tore through Hermione as she heard the truth of his imprisonment. She flung herself onto Harry, sobbing her heart out.

"Harry…I am so sorry…so sorry…" she cried, cringing at the thought of what he must have undergone. Anger filled her, she wanted to _kill _Dumbledore and Fudge. For the first time in her life, she steadily began losing her faith in authority.

Harry patted her back, and disengaged. It seemed Hermione could see things his way, if he tried to make her.

"Hermione, do you want to reach your fullest potential? Be all you can be?"

"I…I do, Harry. But there are lines I won't cross…"

"Yes, the lines. Who drew them, Hermione? It all comes down to protecting your precious and loved ones, does it not? But what if those very people betray you?"

Hermione wiped her eyes, anger in her eyes.

"You mean _Dumbledore?_" she hissed.

"Not only him, but some other people too. They sacrificed my happiness to give me power, arguing that to be alive I needed that power. They were the ones who are responsible for my miseries in life…and no, I cannot tell you who. I need to accept it myself first…"

Hermione was getting too angry, he could tell.

"They were wrong. I would choose for a child to die happy than to push him into a long existence of misery and scars! They deserve to suffer! And how are you so calm?", she asked incredulously.

"I am calm because I need to be so. I _need_ to become the strongest wizard ever, and that cannot happen with a conflicted mind. And I agree with you about those people..." said Harry.

"What was that about you agreeing with Voldemort?"

"He said there is only power and those too weak to see it, in my first year. And do not worry, I do not plan to become like him, I am too different. But I do agree with him that certain beliefs limit my potential. I plan to bring change to the Wizarding World! I _will _change it into a world where there is no misery or suffering, no matter the cost! I swear it by the sanctity of magic!"

Hermione stared at him, his silhouette outlined by the moonlight. It occurred to her that she might be witnessing the making of history as Harry resolved to remake the world.

She knew what Harry was going to ask her, and made her decision.

"I do not agree with you about power being everything, but I will never judge you Harry. I don't need to agree with you to help you, do I? Anyway, if the Ministry could …could cruciate you…" here tears started flowing again.

Harry smiled, snaking an arm around her waist. She laid her head on his shoulder and they watched the beautiful and silent campsite together.

_He had found his first true ally. _

…..

It was Quidditch as Harry had never seen it played before. Even Hermione, who had been solemn since their conversation the other night was consumed by the sheer adrenaline of the hundred-thousand strong crowd.

The players were just blurs. Invisible to the naked eye.

"_Volkov-Vulchanov-Dimitri…Oh I Say!"_, shouted Ludo Bagman, the procurer of tickets for the Weasley family.

The Weasleys were on the edge of their seats, Ron and the twins were practically dancing on theirs. Rooting for Bulgaria one moment and Ireland the other.

They needed omnioculars to follow the game. But Harry did not. He sat stoically, not sharing in the adulation of the crowd. The Weasleys did not even look at his oddity, drinking in the high of the game.

The game itself mattered little to Harry, who instead activated the Sharingan and registered the way the players flew. Especially Krum and Lynch. He could not believe the grace and speed with which they used the Firebolt.

So he copied their grace. He copied their moves and their styles. Krum was aggressive and relied on reflexes.

Lynch was cautious and strategic, making unexpected yet complex moves. Harry could see clearly their extreme conditioning of body.

A lesson for him. To use the Sharingan to its fullest extent in a duel, he would have to master not the eyes but the body as well.

He had to eat better, and push himself to his limits magically and physically.

It was worth coming to this thing. He had picked up ways of flying that were incredible. With considerable practice, he could be as good as Krum. He could not _believe_ the potential of his eyes, and to think he was scratching only the barest surface!

He could feel Fudge staring at him regretfully from the front row, and he stared back coldly. The minister gasped, seeing the Sharingan activated within everyone's view.

Harry could feel the hatred rising within him like a volcano. He met Fudge's eyes with his own, willing the traitorous minister to feel pain. The pain he had felt with the Cruciatus curse, ten times over.

Fudge started screaming his lungs out, feeling pain like he had been stabbed a thousand times with white hot knives, his bones crushed to powder, his eyes being gouged out…

"_Krum is diving!" _roared Ludo Bagman. Harry sighed, taking his eyes off Fudge. He did not want to miss any of Krum's extraordinary flying.

Fudge gasped huge breaths, steadying himself with a counter spell. No one had noticed his screaming, caught up in the match.

Harry, his mind already off Fudge, stared up at Krum with his Sharingan, predicting his moves clearly. He could easily anticipate Krum now, after observing him for this much time.

Krum was feinting, and lynch was taking the bait.

"They are going to fall!" shouted Hermione. Ron and the twins shouted in denial. Bill, Charlie and Arthur just watched from the edge of their seats.

As Harry had expected, Krum expertly barrelled upwards inches shy of the ground but Lynch crashed.

"_Wronski Feint!_" shouted the crowd and Bagman. Ron was dancing in his seat as were Fred and George.

Bill shook his head with Charlie. "Idiot, Krum was feinting…"

Harry stared back at Fudge, who was clearly back to normal after that little session and looking regretful. He frowned. Clearly he needed more practice, if his illusion magic was thrown off that easily.

The journal described that the Sharingan's illusions could be thrown off with effort and skill, but it hinted that the Mangekyo Sharingan's illusory power was absolute.

Fudge was back to normal, and was staring at the game with trepidation. Suddenly Harry felt something dip into his back pocket.

He turned and saw an outline of a figure weave through the crowd. His Sharingan picked up traces of his wand with the figure. He had to follow before he lost that wand. It was not needed, but he could not reveal that he did not need wands yet.

He made to follow the figure which was trying to make its way out of the stadium with his wand held at its side.

Invisibility cloak. It had an invisibility cloak. He could see that the man possessed strong magic, but his details were shrouded even to his eyes.

They got out of the stadium after a lot of jostling, coming out into the empty campsite.

The figure made his way into the woods, and Harry followed, intrigued. He tailed some distance behind the thief, using the trees as his cover.

After twenty minutes of ambling through the woods, he suddenly heard an explosion of cheers through the stadium.

The Weasleys would be on edge, looking for him. He could not draw attention to himself yet, not in this way.

He raised his hand and pointed it at the retreating figure.

"_Expelliarmus!" _

A jet of scarlet light blasted from his raised hand towards the cloaked figure. Suddenly, what appeared to be a house-elf materialized in front of the now rapidly fleeing cloaked figure.

And slapped his spell away.

"You shall not hurt master!" shouted the clearly female house-elf.

Harry was furious. That stupid elf had caused him to lose his wand!

His eyes morphed to the Eternal Mangekyo, searching this way and that for the thief. He didn't give two hoots about the elf.

"ACCURSED EYES! ACCURSED EYES!" wailed little elf with fear, disapparating with a loud crack.

Harry swore, his anger rising by the second. He did not know enough duelling spells to beat anyone, nor had he mastered the Mangekyo enough to be a threat.

"_Incendio!" _he roared the strongest fire spell he knew.

A huge ball of fire blasted out of his hand towards the former location of the thief, much larger than the normal effect of the spell.

The trees caught fire, spreading rapidly. The forest fire began taking form in earnest, causing Harry to smile and bolt in the other direction.

That should make it difficult for the thief to remain undetected. Add to that the officials that would come to investigate the fire…it was perfect.

The thief was done for. He calmly ran back to their tent, his smile not fading.

…..

"HARRY!" screamed Ron. The Weasleys seemed frantic, Hermione was in hysterics.

"Where the heck were you, Harry? The match is over, Bulgaria lost! Krum caught the snitch-"

"Enough, Ron! Harry you scared the living daylights out of us! Where did you run off to?" asked Charlie angrily.

Harry looked at him.

"My wand is lost, and I tried to find it."

"Merlin! Dad, we need to register a complaint with DMLE. Who knows what they could do with the thing?" said Bill, causing Arthur to look at them seriously.

"Harry, you should have told us. No matter, we shall inform DMLE straight away. You three go directly to the tents and stay there, it's getting dark. We might be a while before we return. Don't wait up for Fred and George, though, they are with Bagman. Go."

The trio nodded and walked back in the direction of the tents, Ron and Hermione looking at Harry inquisitively.

They reached the tents and once they were in, Ron accosted him.

"What's up with you, Harry? Do you understand how worried we were when you just up and left? I know you went through some bad things, but that doesn't mean-"

Hermione who was staring open-mouthed at his last remark just shut him up with an elbow to his rib.

"Don't listen to him, Harry."

Harry just stared at Ron, who began to squirm under his gaze. Some bad things? He was tempted to use Sharingan to give him a little taste.

But he just stared more at him, and nodded to Hermione. Then he proceeded to his bed where he could actually do something useful, like learn more of his eyes.

He dimly heard Hermione and Ron go into one of their bickering rants.

…..

Harry stood outside the tent, thinking. It was already dark, and the Weasleys were still due. He knew that the thief of his wand could be anywhere.

That wand was hardly important. He could always buy another. The campsite was empty, all the people in their tents.

Apparently, Krum had caught the snitch to finish the game early, to finish it on his own terms. He could understand what the Bulgarian seeker had tried to do.

It was a matter of control. Controlling the situation was sometimes more important than loss or win.

Hermione had gone to sleep, as had Ron. He was waiting outside for news. If the Weasleys alerted the DMLE, then Dumbledore would know as well.

He respected Dumbledore, even if he wanted to utterly destroy the man. The leader of the light was not really the benevolent man everyone thought him to be.

He was willing to go dark to save the light. He had consigned Harry to hell, thinking to give weapons…no, to turn him into a weapon.

Hatred rose in Harry like a poison, before he tamed it. Emotions were weakness.

His face turned emotionless, as he surveyed the camp for any signs of the Weasleys. He had his Eternal Mangekyo activated.

_There._

He recognized the magical signatures of four people, three wanted and one not wanted.

Dumbledore was here again.

"Harry, nice to see you again!" said Dumbledore. Harry just stared back at the man his Eternal Mangekyo blazing. Dumbledore stiffened and blocked Harry from the Weasleys' view.

"Arthur, let me tell Harry what happened. You go back to the tent."

Arthur nodded to Harry. "We'll be in the tent, Harry. Oh, and we leave at first light tomorrow. Be prepared to rise early."

Bill, Charlie and Arthur departed to the tent with a wave to Harry, who did not respond. He just kept on staring at Dumbledore, no expressions showing on his face.

Dumbledore waved his wand, and the air around them grew still. Harry registered the flow of magic and its effects.

A privacy spell.

He too raised his hand, and the air grew even more still. He had copied what Dumbledore had done, and had mimicked the spell to a certain degree.

"Well done, Harry. The Sharingan is truly marvellous. To learn spells so instantaneously is great. But you will have to master them with work, if you want to use them in all their versatility."

Harry stared at Dumbledore.

"Well, Professor. I am sure you want something from me. Why are you here?"

Dumbledore sighed. It was frightening how Harry had leashed his emotions.

"I know it is too much to ask for you to forgive me, Harry…but can you at least make amends with your parents? James did not have anything to do with your torture, it was all my idea. The hesitation you sensed when you asked him that question was simply him thinking about his role in the research for those eyes. To a parent, losing a child is worse than anything else. You can never understand."

"Alright, Dumbledore. I will forgive them…_when they have experienced every single shred of the pain they caused me. They are vermin. Less than vermin."_ he said in a glacial hiss.

Dumbledore sighed. "I…should have expected that. I know you set fire to the forest, Harry. And that you tortured Cornelius with visions of the Cruciatus. May I ask why you did those things?"

Harry was amused.

"What…no Azkaban this time, Dumbledore? As for your question, it was because I felt like it. Fudge deserves much more…and you, you will pay in agony what no human has ever done until now. You killed the love in me, Albus. The very love you claim is the most powerful magic on earth."

Dumbledore's eyes were shining with unshed tears.

"It was…for your good, and the greater good, Harry. The magical people suffered too much in the first war, you have no idea. If I have to sacrifice my soul to keep them happy, it was still in me to do it. You cannot know how much I regret all this happening to you, Harry. But there was no other way. The eyes you have should be awakened through betrayal and pain. You don't understand…."

Harry shook his head, amusement still on his face.

"You were alarmed by that fraud's prophecy, weren't you? That was why I was thrown into Azkaban. So you could have a weapon ready for Voldemort's return? Wily, Albus. You have turned me into something like yourself. That is why I will not denounce you yet. I will first get ready for Voldemort, and then you will pay."

Dumbledore looked resigned and old. "If my death will bring you peace, then so be it. But as you say, you are not yet strong enough. I can teach you, Harry. I can teach you how to truly use magic, and with my expertise and those eyes of yours I daresay you can become stronger than me in a couple years. It is all I can do to make it up to you. Your parents and I desire you to live, Harry. We want you to live. This is all we can say for ourselves. We are ready to die by your hand if it brings you peace…but I know you will not do that."

Rage rose in Harry, more than he had ever known before. He fixed his eternal eyes upon the Headmaster's own blue ones.

Dumbledore did not look away.

"They made their own child suffer to see him live? I hate them! I _hate _you!"

He wanted his parents and Dumbledore to suffer. He wanted them to suffer so much that they would be in a psych ward for the rest of their lives.

He shuddered, feeling something burning in his Eternal Mangekyo. It became stronger by the second, and a word came unbidden to his mind. It was something he knew would satisfy his wish. He heard the word clearly in his mind.

The burning stopped, and his eyes felt different. He _knew_ a little more about them.

Dumbledore was waving his wand, muttering healing spells at Harry to no avail. He stopped and stared as Harry fixed him with a maniacal grin, the eternal Mangekyo blazing.

"_Tsukuyomi."_

Dumbledore found himself strapped to a cross in a red world with racing white clouds. He could still feel his magic, and he knew he was trapped in an illusion spell.

The illusion of the Eternal Mangekyo. Something rumoured to be so strong that not even the strongest wizard could break through it.

"I feel great, in control" said Harry. He stared at Dumbledore strapped on to the cross, looking helpless. He felt at home in this world, like it was his own mind creating a place of control for him.

He grinned. The old traitor's mind was his plaything in this world. He materialized a sword in his hand and appeared in front of Dumbledore.

"These eyes of mine can beat even you, Dumbledore. My magic may not be as strong as yours yet, but my eyes…"

He stabbed Dumbledore causing him to scream.

"I feel I am god in here. This is my world, and I can torture you for a long time here. _CRUCIO!"_

Dumbledore screamed at the top of his voice. Harry was grinning madly now, seeing Dumbledore in the throes of the same pain he had felt. He felt good.

He stabbed Dumbledore again, causing him to yell out loudly. The old man slumped on his cross, breathing heavily.

Dumbledore began lighting up like a matchstick, feeling the pain of fire consuming him alive. The traitor was helpless in the face of this illusion, Harry thought.

Dumbledore's eyes were rolling in his head, tears streaming down continuously. Harry laughed.

And laughed. His parents would be next. He would torture them with the very eyes they abandoned him for. The very eyes they had given him.

Suddenly, soothing phoenix song ran through his mind, causing his illusion to waver. Dumbledore was barely conscious now.

Feelings he had thought were buried came surging inside harry. _Why am I becoming like Voldemort?_ _This world does not need another Dark Lord. Am I going to cause someone else the same misery these cretins caused me?_

That thought caused a wellspring of emotion in his chest, and he let go of Dumbledore. Tsukuyomi dissipated, leaving Dumbledore unconscious on the ground.

Harry stared at his watch, seeing what had been half an hour in the illusionary world was only a second in the real world.

_Amazing, I really am god in my Illusion. What other powers do these eyes have…?_

Phoenix song continued, soothing Harry's hate. He felt at peace as he listened to its song. Fawkes materialized over Dumbledore in a burst of fire, and shed healing tears over the fallen wizard.

Dumbledore stirred and opened his eyes. Then he slowly stood up.

"I deserve that and more, but did that make you happy, Harry?" he asked tiredly.

"It did. But I am an avenger, not darkness. I am not light either. I am like you. To change this world into one of happiness, I will sacrifice anything. Even you, Dumbledore, if you stand in my way. Even those vermin parents of mine. You owe me, and I intend to collect. Are we clear?"

Dumbledore nodded, the pain of the torture still in his eyes. Harry smiled. He had not even begun to tap into his Eternal Mangekyo's strength, and he could still incapacitate Dumbledore.

He had a feeling Dumbledore was only taken by surprise, but to trap someone of his strength…his satisfaction was rising. Once he mastered these eyes, not even Fawkes would be able to break his power.

That thought sent warm satisfaction flowing through him.

Only then would he move against the current Ministry. Killing Dumbledore in cold blood like this would be foolish even if he had the rare element of surprise for once. Time to use Dumbledore's emotions against him.

"So you will consider my offer of apprenticeship?" asked the old Wizard.

Harry laughed. "No, No I won't. I will never trust you. I hate you. And don't even consider the Potters. I will discover and master magic's mysteries alone. I wish for you and the head of the Department of Mysteries to take an unbreakable oath not to manipulate or coerce me anymore. Anything I require, any help, _I _will ask _you_. Clear?"

"I understand. Thank you for not killing me in your illusion. And to hear our oath, you can accompany me to Hogwarts in the morning. Croaker and I will say the words there on behalf of the Department. Our only intention was for you to get to Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan."

Harry did not respond. Suddenly there was screaming on the campsite. Eternal Mangekyo active, Harry looked towards the source of the commotion.

Multiple masked men were going through the tents, setting them on fire. He observed the magic they were casting and disappointedly sighed. It was the basic fire spell. Nothing new.

He had to fight one of them if he wanted newer and more powerful spells. Death Eaters were good duellists.

"HARRY!" shouted Hermione and Ron, rushing out of the tent towards him and Dumbledore.

They sighed in relief as they saw Dumbledore. They were safe if the Light lord himself was here.

Dumbledore raised his wand and pointed it at Harry.

"I cannot let the Dark find out about your eyes yet, Harry. I will send you deep into the woods with Miss Granger and Mister Weasley."

Before Harry could object, he waved his wand. The eternal Mangekyo observed and copied the magic Dumbledore cast. The next thing Harry knew, he was standing in woods with a bewildered Hermione and Ron.

He looked about with the Mangekyo and saw something that made his heart beat faster. Dumbledore had sent him directly where the thief of his wand was located.

The thief was still not visible as he had cast some kind of charm on himself. Harry had to take him by surprise and draw out the fight if he had to have any chance of learning true and deadly duelling magic. It was a golden chance.

But first, Ron and Hermione. The two were looking around trying to gauge where they were.

"Ron, Hermione. I know the spell Dumbledore cast on us. I have not mastered it, but I can do it. I can send you back to somewhere in the campsite. Once you go there, tell Dumbledore of what I did. He will get me himself. Understand?"

Hermione and Ron stared at him, freaked by his calmness.

"How will you do that without a wand?" .Hermione looked worried and afraid, presumably for him.

Harry raised his hand, molding magic the way Dumbledore had done. Hermione had opened her mouth in denial, but she and Ron disappeared in a flash of light.

Harry sighed with relief. Hermione was not strong enough, yet. She might be strong with magic, but she was still soft. He had lost that in Azkaban. Hermione would be his anchor to what he was once.

An anchor to ensure he was grey, neither light nor dark.

Somehow he felt Hermione was too good for the world. He did not want her to sully herself with the sins he would commit.

_Your Tortures made me hate and want to kill only you, Dumbledore. And you, Potters. I am not fully broken yet, it seems._

He ran hard towards the thief, who had just muttered a spell at a twig, making it glow blue.

The thief touched the twig and began to dematerialize. Harry dived and caught him.

A Portkey. He felt the familiar jerk behind his navel and felt a flying sensation. Suddenly he was upon his foot, a little dizzy.

He looked around, and saw they were just a ways off from the burning campsite. The tents were on fire, and spells flew everywhere. The ministry wizards were trying to subdue the malcontents.

The still invisible thief, ran from Harry to the edge of the clearing and pointed the phoenix feather wand at the sky.

"_MORSMORDRE!"_

A huge shining green skull, with a serpent coming out of its mouth materialized in the sky. There was dead silence from the campsite for a moment, and the ministry wizards were suddenly pushing the black robed wizards back.

Harry turned on his Eternal Mangekyo, copying the spell. This one was simple enough, and the thief had even said the incantation. He stayed a good distance from the thief, not wanting to reveal his eyes yet. He made sure his eyes were shrouded in the darkness of the clearing.

He pointed his hand toward the thief.

"_Expelliarmus!"_

_"Protego!"_ the thief countered and Harry neatly dodged his own spell sent back at him. He observed closely how his opponent cast that shielding spell. Sharingan eyes recorded it perfectly.

Time for some learning. He had to push the thief to using more spells.

He slashed his hand through the air. This was a spell he was intimately familiar with.

"CRUCIO!"

The attacker's eyes widened and he dove out of the way frantically. Harry's curse hit a tree branch, causing it to spin off forcefully into the distance.

He raised Harry's wand, pointing it directly at what he could see of his head.

Harry could see large amounts of magic twisting into shape at the tip of his wand. It was menacing. It was felt like death.

Still he looked, not wanting to miss the spell. This was what he was waiting for.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

Green light blasted from the tip of Harry's wand, but Harry saw it coming from a mile away with his Eternal Mangekyo active.

He twisted to the side, letting the green light pass him by harmlessly.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_ he said, responding with the same curse with his right hand raised. The thief did not realize he was giving his opponent weapons, and was unprepared for a boy to cast that curse.

It struck him right in the chest, and he flew back into a tree. Harry walked forward in relief, going to take his wand back. He had learnt strong curses today. It was a productive fight.

A strong wave of magic burst from the supine thief, whose features were still invisible. Harry noted with surprise that he was still conscious.

The thief woke up groggily, and Harry saw that his magic was boiling in its anger. The thief was bleeding thoroughly, most of it from his nose.

Harry watched calmly. That last curse needed some practice.

"YOU DARE TO CAST THE KILLING CURSE ON ME, BOY!" The thief shouted, raising Harry's wand in anger.

Harry watched calmly, not betraying his eagerness. He had learnt the _killing _curse! He observed closely with the Sharingan as the thief gathered large amounts of magic with the wand once more.

He could see the magic taking the shape of animals everywhere. The Eternal Mangekyo suddenly shone, but the thief was caught up in his spell, making complex wand movements.

Harry watched with fascination as the thief thrust his wand into the air and yelled,

"_FIENDFYRE!"_

A low rumbling fire was born on the tip of the wand and suddenly exploded into a column of fire.

To Harry's fascinated and eternal eyes, the magic that had taken the form of animals suddenly burst into fire.

The fire was growing at an alarming rate consuming the entire clearing. Harry did not care, memorizing how the magic was cast.

The thief stood there, and his happiness was evident to Harry. Massive phoenixes , chimaeras, and basilisks of fire in their multitudes took form all around the clearing and began consuming the forest in all directions.

A phoenix and a basilisk of unbelievably hot fire rushed towards Harry, vaporizing everything in their path.

Harry's skin was burning. He had no option but to mimic the same spell. The eternal Mangekyo shone red as he stood in the epicentre of the fiendfyre, and prepared to defend himself with the same curse.

"_FINITE INCATATEM!"_ shouted thirty voices, trying to suppress the flames. Harry turned towards them, but even his Eternal Mangekyo could not see through the flames. _What was this spell. Was it Dark Magic? Is this the power of dark magic?_

The thief made to run once more as he could not hold the fire spell against thirty wizards actively suppressing it. He let the flames die out slowly.

"_Expelliarmus" _

Harry caught his wand deftly, disarming the distracted thief. He could see the magic building beyond the destroyed area of the forest, and knew that the wizards were preparing their own spells.

Suddenly he felt something pull him by his navel. He felt himself flying, it was curiously like a Portkey.

He landed on familiar ground, deactivating his eyes and stowing his wand back into his robes.

He allowed himself a small smile as Hermione flung herself into his arms, and Ron patted his back.

Dumbledore looked at the trio with relief, and Harry returned a cold look. The traitor had done something right at last, thought the young Potter. He was not even close to holding off thirty wizards by himself, and he had spied the magic of two of them.

They were strong, very strong. One was as strong as Lily Potter and that was strong indeed.

_Good time to bring me back, Dumbledore._


	3. Chapter 3

**Dear readers.**

**Thank you for your reviews and encouragement. I understand when some people are confused about Harry's flighty mindset. I simply made an attempt to capture his rapid maturity gain after acquiring the EMS.**

**If you feel you don't like the story, then at least give me critical reviews instead of derogatory ones. This story is an exploration for me, and I really like writing it. Please do not flame because the story conflicts with your opinions and expectations. We all learn with experience and time.**

**Anyway, onto the chapter! Thanks again for your encouragement!**

CHAPTER 3

_Tsukuyomi._

_The illusion technique of the Mangekyo Sharingan. The most powerful illusory magic of the Mangekyo, nigh unbreakable. It is hypothesized that in the eternal eyes this illusion is ultimate._

_The user controls the space and time of the illusory world to an extent that can be called godlike. One day in the illusory world can be one second in the real world. It is assumed that this control is increased to monstrous levels in the eternal eyes._

_Excessive use of this technique accelerates the blindness of a Mangekyo user. But the eternal Mangekyo bearer is safe from harm._

_If one second were one month in the illusory world….the damage that could be wrought on the victim's mind by the user of the eternal eyes could be horrifying and irreversible. The Cruciatus curse would be preferable to the potential agony of that illusion, whose pain, records Arcturus, was so absolute that it could change a person's deepest beliefs and convictions if used with skill._

_Skill with this technique is honed through practice and imagination. What an eternal Mangekyo user could potentially do with this technique is only speculation…_

Harry smiled calmly. This was the only Mangekyo technique that was explained in the book. He would have to either request permission into the department archives for more information, or he would have to learn on his own.

He had decided to explore it on his own. Learning magic would be easy enough for him with the Sharingan. Mastering it would take time.

Same with the Tsukuyomi. It would require time and practice for him to achieve the godlike control over the illusory world. Eventually, the illusion would be so powerful that not even Dumbledore could break through, even with Fawkes' help.

"Goodbye, children. Stay out of trouble, will you?" asked Molly, tearing up as usual. They were about to board the train.

Harry snorted. They were too coddled, Ron was a prime example. He shook hands with Bill and Charlie who seemed to have gained a measure of respect for him.

Molly hugged him. "I know you have changed a lot, Harry, but try to keep yourself safe. It will really ease my mind…"

Harry simply nodded. The last week in the Weasley household had been rather uneventful except when Dumbledore had called him to make his oath of non-manipulation.

That and there was some hue and cry about some ex-auror called Alastor Moody who had created a false alarm. had to go and do damage control and was in action for most of the week.

Arthur patted him on his shoulder, and they got on the train waving at the Weasley family.

"I am going to find friends from my year, see you!" said Ginny. Harry nodded to her.

"Shall we go and find a compartment of our own?"

Ron and Hermione nodded. They set off to find and empty compartment, waving to familiar faces.

Ron pulled open the door to an empty compartment and they stowed their trunks in, settling on the comfortable seats. Ron looked uncomfortable as he spied Harry and Hermione just examining the speeding scenery.

"Who do you think will be the new DADA teacher?" asked Ron finally, unable to bear the silence.

"With the Triwizard tournament coming up, it will have to be an experienced and skilled person, Ron. Why they reinstated that tournament is beyond me. Honestly, is that the only way they could try for magical co-operation?" she huffed indignantly.

Harry sighed. He had told them of the Triwizard tournament at Hogwarts when Ron began to complain insufferably about the adults 'holding something over their heads'. Hermione had been horrified at what she called 'barbarism'. Apparently, the three schools had abandoned the tournament when a cockatrice killed one of the champions.

Ridiculous.

Ron and Hermione had begun one of their bickering trips over the merits of reinstating the tournament, Ron firmly maintaining that the money was good enough to risk one's life.

So simple. So childish. Harry simply laid back and began to relax. Hogwarts would be frantic this year, and time to himself would be precious.

The door opened, and the food trolley appeared.

"Anything off the trolley dears?"

Harry nodded, taking his usual. Ron broke off his argument with Hermione to dive into their sweet pile.

Harry's mind drifted to a question he had been wrestling with for some time. Should he or should he not tell Hermione of his eyes? She was certainly trustworthy, but could she handle it? She would certainly recognize the name.

His internal debate was cut short when the doors slid open revealing three unpleasantly familiar faces.

Draco Malfoy, Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe.

"Hello Scarhead, Mudblood, Weasel." He greeted with mock solemnity. Crabbe and Goyle gave their customary grunts of laughter.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" asked Ron angrily. Harry didn't even look up from his doze, and Hermione was deep in a book. Her transfiguration book.

Malfoy looked irritated that his arch-rival did not rise to his taunt.

"Nothing, Weasley. Scarhead seems duller than usual, doesn't he? I wonder if he's going to enter?"

Harry cracked an eyelid open and stared at Malfoy.

"No."

He went back to sleep. Malfoy looked insulted.

"Of course, Weasley here would enter, wouldn't you, peasant? I guess he could do with some money…"

Ron was turning steadily redder. Malfoy continued gleefully.

"Durmstrang is going to be fielding Viktor Krum, I hear. I spoke to him after the World cup…Father's station was enough for that. Top Box wasn't enough for you to give you the time of the day, was it Weasley? Your father is … what is it he does? Muggle fraternization?"

Ron pulled out his wand, but Draco was ready.

"_Expelliarmus" _he said sharply, and Ron was disarmed. Hermione laid her book to the side with a sigh and looked at Malfoy. Harry too opened his eyes and sat up.

"Draco, you irritate me. Leave" said Harry, annoyed at his thoughts being interrupted.

"Oh, alright Scarhead. I'll leave. _With pieces of Weasley's wand." _ He stowed his wand in his robes and prepared to break Ron's wand.

"_Expelliarmus!" _shouted Hermione. Malfoy was blasted backwards, Ron's wand flying to Hermione. Ron accepted his wand from Hermione, glaring at Malfoy as if he wanted nothing better than to rip off his head.

Malfoy looked infuriated. Then a cruel and calculating expression came over his face as he looked at Harry.

"How was your summer, Potter? I hear you were screaming…as you were, you know, entertained. You cried, didn't you? Cried like a baby for his mother. For its Mudblood whore of a mother…"

Ron looked horrified as he turned to Harry. Hermione looked furious, like she wanted to kill Malfoy on the spot.

Harry however got up and walked to Malfoy with a calm expression on his face. Crabbe and Goyle rushed towards him, seeking to perform their bodyguard duties.

Harry smoothly ducked under a slow punch from Goyle and struck his solar plexus. Goyle went down, his breath knocked out.

He parried Crabbe's punch expertly, and kicked him in the face breaking the huge boy's nose. Blood sprayed everywhere.

Malfoy whipped out his wand with alarm as he saw his 'guards' taken down so effortlessly.

Hermione and Ron stared dumbly as their friend took down Crabbe and Goyle effortlessly, incapacitating them in seconds. They watched as Harry shot forwards and caught Malfoy's wand hand and twisted, causing the wand to fall to the floor.

Malfoy screamed.

Harry raised his hand, and the air grew still. He slammed Draco on the walls of the compartment by his neck hard, the ponce's wrist hanging limply.

"Privacy charm, very strong" muttered Hermione. It was as if they were isolated within the compartment. They were safe from outsiders.

Harry held Draco by his neck and stared into Malfoy's eyes which looked dilated with fear, his bravado gone. Harry had his backs to Hermione and Ron, who seemed to be unable to move.

His eyes morphed into the Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan. Draco gasped in fear looking at the red eyes. In it lay three circles connected by arcs, which in turn were connected to the circumference of Harry's red pupil by black lines.

_A combination of his and Arcturus' Mangekyo, joined to his to form the first known Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan._

"_Tsukuyomi"_ whispered Harry and smiled as the world changed to a vast empty plain with racing clouds.

Draco was chained to a cross, looking fearfully at the endless plain. He was afraid, more than afraid. He was literally close to wetting himself.

Harry appeared in front of Draco.

"How did you know of my imprisonment, Draco?"

"Go to hell, Potter! What is this place? Release me at once or my father will make you pay! You can't hold me here forever, wherever this is!"

Harry smiled grimly. "This is my world, Draco, and I am god here. I can torture you for a month here, and it would only be half a minute in the real world. If your father attacks me he will suffer a fate you cannot imagine. And this is hell _for you _Malfoy, and I am ruler in this world. Now, how did you know of my imprisonment?"

"LET ME GO!" screamed Malfoy, shaking in his bounds. The cross rattled.

A scythe materialized in Harry's hands, and he hacked off Malfoy's right arm at the elbow.

Malfoy cried out in pain, tears rolling down his face. He kept yelling and screaming, cursing Harry.

"Shall I hack off your other arm, Malfoy?" inquired Harry as he raised his scythe. Malfoy spat at him. Harry smiled and thrust the scythe through Malfoy's chest.

The Slytherin was screaming louder than ever, convulsing upon the cross.

"You will not die till I let you, nor will you lose consciousness. I told you, here I am god."

"Potter…once I tell…my father…you will scream again…in Azkaban" gasped out Malfoy faintly.

Harry felt white hot anger at the mention of his imprisonment. He would make Malfoy wish for death.

"I saw your mother at the Quidditch World Cup, Malfoy. You seem to adore her, don't you? Let me show you what will happen to her if you in anyway move against me… Now, I need you to be in full health to see this."

Malfoy's arm grew back and his chest wound was healed.

Narcissa Malfoy appeared in all her beautiful glory, causing Malfoy to gasp. Even though Malfoy knew she was an illusion, he gasped out.

"Mother?" she was so real. Harry grasped her by the hair and it began. He executed Narcissa in hundreds of ways, and all the Malfoy begged for him to stop. He shouted retribution against Harry but after the first few visions he was begging.

"Please stop, PLEASE! I WILL DO ANYTHING! Don't kill her. Please stop this, please!"

Harry just finished another execution, and let Narcissa dissipate back into his illusion. Malfoy was now crying continuously, unable to bear the anguish.

He was broken.

Harry went to Malfoy's cross and stared at the Slytherin.

"How do you know of my imprisonment?"

"My father…I think he heard from Fudge. I'm sorry, Potter…I am sorry…Please I know nothing else. Leave mother alone, please…"

Harry blinked, his eternal Mangekyo blazing. Malfoy was unstrapped from his cross.

"Do you understand what will happen if you go against me?"

Malfoy nodded frantically. " I swear, I will tell no one….I swear…"

"You are nothing in front of my eyes." Malfoy flinched as he looked at the blazing eternal eyes. Harry continued.

" Now, I will send you back to your body and you won't feel the full backlash. Your wrist damage will be there, but I will spare you the physical pain you have experienced here. But I will let the fear stay,…if you tell anyone of my secrets, I will make you experience the _true_ power of this world. Understand?"

Malfoy nodded weakly, terror contorting his face. He was beginning to understand just how inferior he was to the Potter.

Harry's eternal eyes morphed back to their black, causing Tsukuyomi to dissipate. The train compartment came back, and it was only a second since he looked into Malfoy's eyes.

He let Malfoy slide to the ground. The Slytherin stood with a great effort, utter terror in his eyes. Crabbe and Goyle had gotten up from their beating a second ago, and they looked angry.

He gave a shake of his head to them, and exited the train compartment casting fearful glances at Harry. The two brutes were too stunned by the utter terror in Draco's eyes to do anything but follow dumbly.

"_Scourgify."_

Harry's wandless spell cleaned up the train compartment and another spell lifted the privacy curtain.

"Wake me when we get to Hogwarts" he said to Ron and Hermione, who seemed stunned to the core by his display of wandless magic and his easy takedown of the Slytherin trio.

Harry unconcernedly closed his eyes, pondering the information he had gleaned from the Malfoy.

If what he had learned was true, then the wrong people might know of his Sharingan. The ministry was compromised.

What to do…

…..

**A FEW HOURS LATER**

Harry climbed into one of the carriages along with Ron and Hermione. The remaining trip on the train had been unremarkable. He had shown Malfoy power, and Slytherin house respected power.

He did not need annoying idiots like Malfoy to interfere with his plans this year.

He had blown off Ron's curiosity with vague answers. No one needed to know about Sharingan. Hermione just stared at him with scrutinizing eyes.

She was an observant witch. Harry had no doubt that she would deduce what was happening if she got more clues like this. But there was no helping it.

If Lucius Malfoy knew, then most of the people who mattered knew. But they would have no idea of his eyes having reached its current advanced stage of evolution.

The carriage rattled along its path, and Harry again closed his eyes thinking of his life. The Triwizard tournament…he had to enter it.

It would be the best opportunity for him to test his eyes and magic. It would be his second trial. He was sure it would have nothing on Azkaban, though. They would have limits and controls over the entire affair.

His mind then quested over to his sister, Isabelle. Though she was blameless in the entire affair, he had no inclination to acknowledge her as family. Potters were an abomination.

He himself would change his surname in a second, but couldn't do so as he was still a minor in the Wizarding world. But come seventeen, that would change and he would be free.

Emancipation wouldn't work either. If he were emancipated he would leave himself open to the law, and by extension the ministry. He needed to lay low for his time at Hogwarts and master the Eternal Mangekyo. Only then could he proceed.

They passed through the village of Hogsmeade and were in front of the gates of Hogwarts. The trio got down, and began walking towards the Great Hall.

The Triwizard…he had to find a way to enter. If he were to hone his power, it had to be in such extenuating circumstances. Azkaban gave him the power. Now he had to develop that power.

Ron and Hermione had begun a new bout of bickering as the trio entered the Entrance hall of Hogwarts. Harry turned on the Sharingan between instants, sampling the powerful magic of the school. It was literally steeped in the magic.

He could feel a disturbance in the air behind him and turned. As if in slow motion, he could see Peeves bombarding the students with his water pellets. One headed straight towards Hermione.

"_Expelliarmus!"_ he muttered, causing the water pellet to fly elsewhere.

"PEEVES!" came a voice he knew well. Professor McGonagall briskly walked down the corridor glaring at the nuisance of a poltergeist. So focused was she on her object of irritation that she slipped and held Hermione's neck for support.

"Sorry, Miss Granger." She said straightening. Hermione waved it off, looking thoughtful.

"PEEVES, I SHALL CALL THE HEADMASTER! LEAVE NOW!" she yelled. The poltergeist blew a raspberry at her and floated away cackling.

Harry though was on a new tangent. He wondered if the Sharingan would affect ghosts. He thought they would, as ghosts were constructs of magic and nothing was more magical than his eyes.

McGonagall stared around at the students that were witnessing the spectacle and had stopped moving.

"Well, get a move on! The feast is about to begin!" she said sharply. The students resumed their beeline towards the Great Hall.

She turned to face Harry, and gasped slightly. She shook herself out of her surprise and addressed him.

" , the Headmaster requests a quick word with you. Granger, Weasley, you can move on. He will be back in time…"

Ron and Hermione shot worried glances at him and began walking again. Harry did not acknowledge anyone, and simply began walking towards the headmaster's office. McGonagall frowned, but walked by his side.

They walked the corridors of Hogwarts in silence until McGonagall broke it.

"I trust you had a good summer, Potter?"

Harry considered.

"Good enough, professor. I learnt a great many things. I assure you my performance in this year's studies will be nothing short of extraordinary."

McGonagall stared at him. It was not arrogance that the young man exuded. It was confidence, confidence and a deep sadness. What happened to him?

"Potter,…you do not make such statements lightly. I hope you hold to your word, as it has been irritating for me to see potential such as yours wasted the past three years. The only reason you know what you do now is because of miss Granger…"

That was another thing he was considering. Ron used to be his friend, but now Harry could see he was only constraining his potential. His plans to become the greatest would not be derailed by Ron.

To reach the top, he needed to eliminate all obstacles. Ron was such a one. Hermione too was being railroaded by the lazy Weasley.

_We would be better off without Ron. Hermione seeks knowledge for its own sake, and I seek Power, a significant part of which is Knowledge. I need to find a way to cut Ron loose, but keep Hermione. She is a true asset unlike Ron. I can't even relate with him anymore…_

His thoughts were interrupted as McGonagall said the password to the Gargoyle. They climbed the stairs to the Headmaster's office.

"Come in, Minerva."

McGonagall responded to Dumbledore's voice and allowed herself and Harry into the beautiful circular office. Not for the first time, Harry stared around at the assortment of artifacts Dumbledore had accumulated.

The man himself stood up with a welcoming smile on his face.

"Thank you for coming, Harry. Minerva, that will be all. Tell the school that I will be joining them shortly. I need to address a matter with young Harry here…"

The Transfiguration professor stared a moment at Harry and then nodded. The moment she left, Harry's eyes morphed into the Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan.

It seemed Dumbledore had learned his lesson. He did not meet Harry's eyes as he stood up to face Harry across the diameter of the office.

"Harry, time is short, but I need to make something clear to you. You are not to attack the students of Hogwarts to release your anger. They cannot resist those eyes of yours."

Harry snorted.

"Learned our lesson have we, Dumbledore? I see you avoiding my face rather diligently. At least you are taking the trouble to defend _someone_ from pain. Here I was, thinking you were worse than Voldemort. Looks like you have _some_ conscience left in that scheming brain of yours…"

His Sharingan registered the hurt Dumbledore felt at his words. He smirked, satisfied. Words were better weapons to hurt a person than emotions.

Dumbledore's magic suddenly spiked, and Harry saw in slow motion the old man reaching inside his pocket and draw his wand. Dumbledore's wand slashed through the air, and a golden yellow spell roared through the air at Harry.

Harry's eternal eyes learnt the spell as Dumbledore performed it. He was just able to raise his hand and yell,

"_PROTEGO!"_

The golden spell crashed through his shield and threw him back into the wall, hard. He slid down to the ground groaning in pain.

Dumbledore walked calmly towards him.

"I understand your resentment towards me, and I deserve it. But I will not allow you to harm the innocent, Harry. That is not why you were given those eyes. You are a defender of the light."

Harry started laughing weakly. He now began to understand the difference in strength between him and Dumbledore. The greatest Wizard of all time did deserve his moniker.

He had seen him draw his wand, had seen him cast the spell but he was not fast enough to react. His eyes saw that Dumbledore only put a fraction of his strength in his spell and it still tore through his shield charm like paper.

_Power is no use till trained_.

He had enormous magic, flowing through his veins like a storm. Just like he saw it flow through Dumbledore. But Dumbledore had a lifetime of Magical study and understanding, whereas Harry was a baby in comparison. The only edge he had was the Sharingan.

_I will become a true master of the Sharingan, _he resolved.

"Defender of the light? You are insane, Dumbledore. I refuse to limit myself in such a manner. What makes you think you can tell me what to do after all you have done to me?"

Dumbledore's face seemed to show pity, before it hardened. Harry could see again the general of the first war, the one man Voldemort feared above all.

"I see you cannot be made to understand. I keep telling you, we did what had to be done. Your life is more important than your happiness, and not just because of the prophecy. _Your parents let you get hurt because they wanted you to live. You have the eyes, and you can face Voldemort because of them!_"

Fawkes materialized in a burst of fire on Dumbledore's shoulder. The old man began leaking magic. To Harry's eyes it was as if the old man began to shine like the sun.

"I have hardly shown you what it means to be a true master of the magical arts. You do not stand a chance against me. That is why I will warn you once and only once, do not attempt to use your eyes on the students unless under dire circumstances."

Now Harry smiled a cold smile as he stood up to face Dumbledore once more. His eyes morphed back to its normal black.

"The _true_ Albus Dumbledore comes out to play at last. Very well, Dumbledore. I see have no choice but to agree. But be warned, the day will come when I will surpass you and when that happens…"

Dumbledore nodded tiredly. It was as if every trace of the old Harry had burned away, leaving the too calculating and mature individual in front of him. Not that he expected anything else after what had happened…

"You will be surprised when that day arrives, I think, Harry. Now let us go. The feast is about to begin."

The two of them disappeared in a blast of Phoenix fire.

…..

Harry sat at the long Gryffindor table as his fellow Gryffindors devoured the sumptuous feast.

The staff table was missing one person. The DADA teacher. He wondered who it would be, but it did not matter anyway. He would explore magic on his own. The library and the school enough were enough to do that.

"So, what did Dumbledore want Harry?" asked Ron curiously, stuffing his face with pudding.

"Nothing, just told me not to beat up Malfoy anymore."

Ron just snorted, happily thinking of how Harry had taken Malfoy down. He even forgot his food as he went to his happy place.

At the Slytherin table Malfoy was uncharacteristically silent. The Slytherins seemed to be really weirded out by this new and timid Malfoy.

Harry smiled at Malfoy, causing the Slytherin to shudder and look away. The remaining Slytherins glared at him murderously.

"Snape is staring at you as if he wants to kill you, Harry!" said Hermione in a low voice.

Harry turned to look at Snape sitting at the staff table. The greasy haired potions master seemed to be staring at him with a cold look but still conveying his bottomless hate for his hated student.

Harry too stared back at the man he had hated for four years. Suddenly he felt a stinging pain in his head and knew it to be Snape's work. He looked away from Snape's black eyes.

That slimy bastard. Harry just wanted to rip him apart in _Tsukuyomi_, but he saw Dumbledore staring at him. After their recent altercation, Harry felt it would be unwise to push Dumbledore. Power. He was not yet powerful enough.

The eagerness to learn and accumulate strength grew in him once more. It was unbearable.

Magic had no limits, only the mind. He could push those limits even more with his Sharingan. He had to get started tonight. The library could not keep him out when he used the Invisibility cloak.

Dumbledore stood up and waved his wand, clearing the tables of its remaining food.

"Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! Before we get to the important matters, let me introduce your DADA professor, Professor Alastor Moody!"

The doors of the great hall opened with a bang, and a man limped into the hall noisily. The students stared at him dumbly, noting his horribly scarred face which seemed to be a parody of a human face.

Harry flashed his Sharingan at the man for an instant, and noted with surprise that the magic that flowed through him seemed…_forced._ As if he was straining to do some spell…

Moody took a sip from a hipflask, and Harry was even more surprised. That draught also exuded magic faintly. Why was their Professor drinking a potion?

He turned his attention away from the man who occupied his seat at the staff table to lukewarm applause.

"This year, the Quidditch cup will not be taking place", continued Dumbledore. The house tables erupted in protest, Ron staring at Harry sadly. Harry snorted inwardly.

_Quidditch._

Dumbledore fired a blast from his wand, and silence ensued.

"This will be due to an event that will be held at Hogwarts for the full year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy. This year, Hogwarts will host the Triwizard Tournament!"

The students were dead silent. Then,

"You're joking!"

"I assure you I am not joking, " said Dumbledore amusedly to Fred. "Though I did hear a good one over the summer about a troll, hag and leprechaun…"

McGonagall cleared her throat. Dumbledore looked sheepish before he continued.

"As I was saying, the Triwizard tournament will be held at Hogwarts. But this time, we shall be imposing age limits. No one below sixteen years of age is to enter."

The students once again exploded in protest, Ron actually shaking a fist at Dumbledore. Harry just stared coldly at the Headmaster.

Dumbledore waited for silence and then continued.

"This is for your own safety as the tasks are highly challenging. We recommend that you do not enter by cheating. Durmstrang School and Beauxbatons academy will be arriving in a month's time."

Here he looked at all the assembled houses with a solemn look.

"Now, it is time for all of you to prepare for another term of learning. Off you go to bed. Pip pip!"

The usual scraping of benches happened and the students filed towards their respective common rooms.

Harry walked quietly alongside Ron and Hermione. He would enter the Tournament at any cost. No one deserved to enter more than him.

….

Albus Dumbledore sat in his office, facing three distraught people. The children were currently sleeping, but he knew one was not. Dumbledore knew Harry Potter was currently in the Library of Hogwarts presumably delving into the magical arts.

He would let him do so. He owed Harry too much, and it seemed that the boy now respected power. But still he could see that Harry would not hurt innocents in his path. That was all he could hope for.

"I am afraid, Albus. The hate in him is making those eyes stronger than possible. The more he leashes those emotions, the more they fester. Then they grow and grow until it consumes him. We should never have given him the eternal eyes so soon…he is suffering!", sobbed Lily Potter.

"This is your fault" said a beautiful young blonde girl, facing Dumbledore. Her hair descended to her waist in curly waves, and she had a perfect figure. Her beautiful face turned to Dumbledore, a scowl marring it.

"My brother should never have had his love destroyed so brutally. He could have awakened those eyes after he reached adulthood. I told you. I told you to let him be, to let him come back to us! You wouldn't listen, Albus! You wanted him to be strong, now he will grow so strong that no one can stop him! I will have to enter the tournament to keep a check on him….",said the young woman.

"Isabelle…we had no choice. You are the most brilliant witch after Rowena Ravenclaw and Perenelle Flamel. We based our decisions on your research and the new prophecy. Voldemort will return soon, it is unavoidable. He will come for Harry, and when he does our boy will be able to hold his own. You have no idea what it has taken out of us to consign our own son to misery just so he will live…"

Isabelle stood up and faced her parents.

"I told you seven years ago to take him back. I begged you. You should have never left him in the first place. And letting him getting tortured at Azkaban with the Cruciatus…abominable." she shook her head with disgust, tears falling down her face. James looked like he was being ripped apart. Lily had stopped her tears and now had a broken look on her face.

Dumbledore stood up and faced the Potter family regretfully.

"I have contained him with a show of my strength. For now, he is wary of me. We still have a chance that he opens up to Isabelle…he has no idea it is her who hypothesized what we now know of Sharingan. He still believes it to be James."

"Foolish. Albus, all you have done is engender more drive and lust for power in him. Even I have no idea about the true power of those eyes. I am called the most brilliant since Rowena and Professor Flamel, but my little brother will be the strongest since Merlin, Gryffindor and Arcturus. If only I was allowed a life with him…"

"You have to enter the Beauxbatons delegation, Isabelle. Then you can meet him officially. I will get the Department to discharge you for the next year."

Isabelle nodded sadly. Her family had given up too much for magical Britain and the Department, and now it was torn apart.

"Harry won't harm anyone under my watch. Just take care of him till I get there, Albus. And you two…" she faced her parents.

"You two have made a horrible mistake by ignoring my advice. You knew too little of the Sharingan when Harry was born, and when I researched it and gave you the details, you used them to accelerate its awakening. Your reasons were good, but your methods were disgusting. So, heed my advice now and stay away from him. You both are too late to be his parents anyway."

Lily and James nodded, both looking absolutely crushed. Dumbledore looked at Isabelle.

"Isabelle, do not at any cost look into Harry's eternal Mangekyo. He cast me into an illusory world I couldn't break out of. He is god in that world and your mind will be his plaything. He will destroy you if he catches you with that illusion…"

Now Isabelle had a look of absolute surprise on her face. Lily and James looked flabbergasted.

"_Tsukuyomi._ That is a power of Arcturus' Mangekyo. No one can escape that illusion when he cast it with Mangekyo, but with the eternal eyes…it would be beyond terrible. You were lucky, Albus."

Dumbledore nodded. "I was. Fawkes saved me. Have you read about Arcturus' other powers? Do you think Harry will manifest them as well…?"

Isabelle looked at him solemnly.

"You had better hope not, though it is extremely likely. When he awakens and masters those two other powers…he will be unstoppable as it will be magnified to about a hundred times of what Arcturus could do. And that is just the Mangekyo…the eternal eyes I am sure has much more to it. But it will need time, especially to master that third power…"

Lily and James looked at Isabelle quizzically.

"What are they called?"

Dumbledore made a quieting motion with his hands.

"Their names are entwined intimately with the magic of the Mangekyo. If we utter them in close proximity, the eyes will react and Harry will know that he is subject of a discussion."

"What about _Tsukuyomi?"_

"He is already used to it, somewhat. But I assume his eyes reacted to that as well. Already I feel him coming towards my office, no doubt to spy on me…."

Isabelle stared at Dumbledore.

"Is he still awake? What is he doing?"

"He is in the library" answered Dumbledore. "Anyway, it is getting late. You need to be back in Beauxbatons now, Isabelle. Give my best to Perenelle and Nicholas when you next meet them…"

Isabelle nodded and disappeared. Dumbledore looked stunned.

"She can pass through my wards _and_ Hogwarts'?" he asked Lily and James with surprise.

Now Lily and James looked proud. "She could break even Perenelle's wards when she was thirteen, the Department still can't believe what a catch they made with her. She is a genius of the highest order, the most talented mage in the history of the department." Said Lily.

"Amazing. She developed dramatically in France it seems. I need to meet with her more and share with her my magic. She has as much potential as Harry in a way…"

James and Lily nodded, looking unutterably sad as they thought of their youngest.

"Will he ever forgive us, Albus? I know we sent him to hell, but will he ever look past that and consider our reasons?" asked Lily with tears falling, as James put an arm around her shoulders.

Dumbledore sat down with them, and looked every one of his hundred years.

"Would you?"

The three sat silent at that, cursing the circumstances and the prophecy. Above all, they cursed Voldemort for tearing their family apart in more ways than one.

…

Harry Potter walked to the Great Hall for breakfast alone. He had decided not to involve Hermione for some time, as he had to find a way to enter the Triwizard tournament.

He sat down at the Gryffindor table alone, and began eating his porridge.

"Hiya, Harry! How is it going?" came a chipper voice.

Colin Creevey. An annoying fanboy of his. He gave the boy a cold stare, projecting fear. Colin backed away slowly, sweating. Then he scampered back to his table.

He could see Dumbledore looking at him disapprovingly out of the corner of his eyes. Like he cared.

McGonagall came towards him and handed him his timetable, just as Ron and Hermione joined him.

"Professor McGonagall" he said calmly. McGonagall stopped and turned, looking at him with surprise.

"Yes, Potter?"

"I wish to drop a few subjects. Two Electives to be precise."

Now McGonagall looked truly surprised.

"Indeed? Which subjects would you drop?"

"Divination and Care of Magical creatures. Both subjects are impractical and useless. I would like to enroll for Arithmancy instead."

Ron spat out his porridge in shock, and Hermione looked at him with approval and disapproval mixed into a single glance. All the Gryffindors were staring at Harry.

"You are too far behind for Arithmancy, Potter. You can drop Care of Magical creatures and Divination, but you do not know the third year syllabus for Arithmancy. So I am afraid you cannot enroll for that class."

Harry stared straight at her. "I know the third year syllabus, professor. I finished the entire thing easily enough."

"When?" asked Hermione and the Transfiguration mistress simultaneously. Ron was looking at him as if he'd grown two heads.

"Yesterday night." At this both of them looked stunned, but Harry continued. "Give me a chance in that class, Professor. If my performance is unsatisfactory, you can do what you wish."

McGonagall scrutinized him. "Professor Vector will assess you before you are let into the fourth year class. Is that acceptable?"

Harry nodded.

"Then your time table will change." She waved her wand and the time table changed. He now had the advantage of less Ron and more Hermione.

McGonagall went on her way, and Harry having finished his food proceeded to Herbology, Ron and Hermione tailing him.

"Harry, how could you drop Divination and Care of Magical Creatures? Hagrid will literally cry!" said Ron in an outraged voice.

"Then let him cry. I will not indulge Hagrid anymore. I have my own aims, and I cannot coddle Hagrid's love for lethal monsters. Divination is just a fraudulent subject with a crazy teacher. It is useless, in other words."

Ron looked almost too angry to speak, but Hermione gripped Harry's arm.

"Harry, isn't that a little harsh? How can you so easily cast Hagrid away?" she questioned.

"You know the answer to that, Hermione." He said and quickened his pace towards the Herbology classroom.

….

"You are more than qualified to enter my class, . Congratulations!" said Septima Vector, the Arithmancy Professor.

Harry just nodded to the young woman, and walked out of the empty classroom. Sharingan. It had allowed him to comprehend things faster than possible, he had picked up the entirety of third year Arithmancy in about five hours.

After those studies, he really understood how magic worked much better. Why spells were needed at all, how they were constructed, how to modify them…it was an intriguing subject.

He planned to finish off up to seventh year Arithmancy in a week, and then do the same to Transfiguration and Charms. His Sharingan was truly formidable. Now he began to understand why his eyes were so feared. He could read the entire library and comprehend it within a few years.

Eternal Mangekyo granted him a more than perfect eidetic memory. Because they were eternal, he felt no strain from their long term use.

The knowledge he would gain…he shivered at the thought. He would increase his library sessions by a couple of hours. He had already begun his physical exercise routine, jogging around the lake. It had taken a lot out of him…but the body had to be trained as well.

He had a free hour thanks to dropping Care of Magical creatures. He headed towards the library and immersed himself in a book about the nature of incantation.

Currently he was reading through the effects of vocalization on spell work. It seemed that one did not need to shout out the incantation for a spell. Just thinking it was enough, apparently. It required strength of will.

He did not doubt his strength of will. It was forged in the tortures of Azkaban after all. He smiled grimly as he raised his hand.

_Wingardium Leviosa!_ He thought, and the book levitated neatly. He smiled. Non-verbal spells came to him with startling ease. He had not even bothered to take out his wand. He rarely used it anymore except in classes.

"What are you doing, Harry?" came Hermione's startled voice. Harry let go of the spell, causing the book to land on the table with a thud.

Hermione came to him and took a look at the book.

"_Nature of incantation_? Trying non-verbal spells, are we? I don't think you can-"

He looked at her and thought, _Rictusempra._ She began laughing as he held the tickling spell for a few seconds. He let up and a still giggling Hermione stared at him with wonder.

"Wandless and now wordless? How are you doing it, Harry?" she asked with suspicion in her voice.

"I just can. Now, why did you seek me out?"

"Its Ron, he is angry with you for ditching those subjects and he was being insufferable. Hagrid is angry as well."

"What did Hagrid bring to class this time? Some bloodthirsty new monsters, I expect."

Hermione frowned. "They aren't yet, but they will be. He calls them Blast-ended Skrewts and they seem pretty dangerous…"

Harry snorted and went back to his work. Hermione looked at him and left the library thoughtfully.

….

Harry sat calmly next to Hermione, listening to the lecture of Professor Vector. _Yes._ This was better than listening to a waste of space like Trelawney. This was actually of use to him.

He listened as Vector described the contemporary theory of spells with passion and expertise. She knew well what she taught. He spied Hermione taking notes diligently.

He refused to take notes. Instead he paid close enough attention, flashing the eternal Mangekyo in short intervals to retain most of the lecture in a crystal clear manner.

The bell rang.

"That is it, Class. Read up on Marshall-Weiss spell interpolation techniques tomorrow. It's important, and forms the basis of the theory for chaining spells to provide multiple effects with a short incantation."

The class looked excited, and Harry was intrigued. He had to research on this topic tonight….

The class proceeded to move out of the room, but Harry made a beeline towards the library followed closely by Hermione.

They occupied their favourite seats in the library and began reading up on spell interpolation. He'd brought the invisibility cloak with him to study alone for the rest of the night, after dinner.

…..

"….like a dump, Weasley. She could do with losing some weight."

Ron took out his wand in a rage, and started raining spells on Malfoy who responded in like. The Gryffindors in the corridor looked angered with Malfoy's comments and began firing their own hexes at him causing the Slytherins to respond in kind.

It was this state of pandemonium that Harry arrived to with Hermione. To the side, he could see Moody leisurely leaning to the side and observing the general fight with a grin.

Ron was sporting a tail and piglike eyes, and Malfoy had the feathers of a chicken. But that was just the two of them. Jets of light flew everywhere as Slytherins and Gryffindors unleashed their long cultivated mutual hatred.

Harry just activated his eyes now and then to pick up a few spells.

"STUPEFY" shouted Montague, the Slytherin chaser. He had sent the spell at Seamus, who flew back and hit the wall with a thud. He looked unconscious.

Hermione who seemed outraged walked to Professor Moody. Harry hid behind a suit of Armor and watched Moody with eternal Mangekyo.

Moody took a swig of his potion, and Harry saw his Magic changing. He cursed for not seeing it sooner. This bloke was an impostor!

But there was no way he would give him to Dumbledore. His mind raced at the speed of light as Hermione demanded for 'Moody' to stop the now escalating chaos, wand in her hand.

If he was an impostor, then he had to have done something with the real Moody when the crazy old Auror was attacked in the summer. The only people with reason to attack Moody was Voldemort's supporters.

_He shall return…greater and more terrible than ever before…_

Trelawney's prophecy ran through his head. The facts fit. It was safe to assume that the impostor was a death eater.

But Harry was really intrigued as to what the man would teach. Maybe some good dark curses, nothing to warrant attention probably…but enough to stoke the thirst for power in the right people.

He would need to push the man to demonstrate and then copy the spells. He smiled faintly.

Theodore Nott had separated himself from the brawl and had headed towards Harry. Moody watched amusedly, a grin marring his scarred face as he saw the students brawl like there was no tomorrow.

Harry spied Nott out of the corner of his eyes as he took aim towards him and shouted out a bowel loosening hex. Harry didn't even turn to see Nott as the grey hex shot towards him.

_Protego, _he thought. He could feel the shield surrounding him instantly and repelling Nott's hex right back at him. The Slytherin closed his legs in shame as he felt the unpleasant effects, and shuffled back to the Dormitory.

Moody glanced at him with surprise and gave him an approving nod which he ignored. The DADA professor hefted his wand, Harry watching carefully behind his suit of Armor. Eternal Mangekyo shone in the torchlight. He could see Hermione beside the Professor with an indignant look on her face.

Moody raised his wand and whirled it in a circle before pointing it at the ground.

"_EXPULSO!"_ he said loudly. A shockwave blasted from his location, throwing the warring students to the ground violently.

Harry's eyes copied the spell, and he deactivated it. Before long, he would have an arsenal of thousands of spells. He smiled at the thought.

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?" came the surprised voice of Minerva McGonagall. Harry watched for a few moments as she berated the students, and enquired as to what happened from Moody.

Then he turned and walked back to the Dormitories, and saw that Hermione was helping an animalistic Ron to get to the hospital wing.

Weak. Ron was weak, unable to control his actions or his magic. Atleast he had to give it to Malfoy that he was always calculated in his insults, and knew duelling well.

It seemed that the Malfoy heir read well between the lines, as he had deduced that Harry wouldn't come to Ron's help. Harry pulled out his invisibility cloak.

Time for more magic. The library was beautiful in its quiet…the night was indeed the best time to study. No distractions, no annoying students. It allowed for complete concentration.

He smiled as he activated the Sharingan, searching for any prowlers or stragglers. Tonight would be productive indeed….


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the late update. Enjoy this chapter!**

CHAPTER 4

It was past midnight, and the halls of Hogwarts were eerily silent save for the occasional professor making their rounds.

Harry made his way through the corridors, having finished memorizing approximately a hundred books from the restricted section.

This had been his goal for the past five days.

Using Sharingan so heavily had led to a slight headache, causing him to retire early. Indeed, the books he had chosen had to be comprehended at leisure. They were much too complicated and involved to just understand on the fly.

After uncovering the fact that the Sharingan granted him an eidetic memory, he had gone on to memorize as many books as possible. Time spent listening to boring lectures could now be spent pondering the contents of the books he had memorized perfectly.

He had begun to study the arts of illusionary magic. Of course, he could cast illusions easily by his Sharingan. The Tsukuyomi was his absolute illusion.

But he refused to fall into the trap of depending upon only the Sharingan when he saw the power Dumbledore possessed. With or without Sharingan, he would be hard pressed to defeat Dumbledore. The time he had caught the old man in Tsukuyomi was just him catching him by surprise. Illusionary magic was an art that required great finesse and power, and ten out of the hundred books he had memorized were on the subject.

Of the hundred, he had memorized twenty on Transfiguration, Twenty on the Dark arts, Thirty on Elemental spells, Five on the theory of apparition, and fifteen on Charms theory. Understanding them completely…well, that would take him quite a long time.

He was halfway through the collection on illusionary magic. It was easy for him, that art. He supposed it had to do with his eyes. Illusions and the Sharingan went hand in hand, for some reason.

As he trudged through the halls, he fished out the Marauder's Map. Unfurling the map, he said the ritual phrase. "_I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."_

Lines began Spidering around in the map, allowing him to look at the state of the school and its occupants. He received two shocks as he stared at the names in the map.

Remaining stationary in Moody's office was a dot named Barty crouch. Alastor Moody was nowhere to be found, and that was extremely suspicious. But of more immediate concern was the dot tailing him clandestinely.

He decided it was better to confront the man and see why he was being followed. He could not have _anyone_ knowing of his night time activites, except Dumbledore. The old traitor was obviously too canny not to keep any tabs on him.

He turned on his Sharingan, the three comma eyes blazing red as he searched for Severus Snape. There. Snape was cloaked under a disillusionment charm, a basic piece of illusionary magic. He himself was cloaked in one.

He could clearly see Snape under the spell, the Sharingan easily seeing through the layers of magic.

"Why are you following me, _Professor_ Snape?" he coldly asked the apparently empty corridor, releasing his own disillusionment.

He kept his Sharingan activated as Snape became clearly visible. His eyes could clearly observe the absolute distress Snape was in. It looked like the man had been through hell, his face looked tear streaked and his eyes bloodshot.

It was a look Harry recognized well. He himself had worn that look in Azkaban for quite some time. He smiled slightly at Snape's anguish as the Potions professor walked towards him. He faced the Potions Professor calmly as the man stood in front of him.

"Sneaking in corridors after curfew, are we?" snarked Snape. Harry did not respond, observing Snape with the Sharingan. He had to fight down the urge to just tear Snape's mind apart with his Tsukuyomi.

"Potter, accompany to my office immediately. Let us see if I can reduce your detention from a few months to a few weeks." Said Snape in a cold voice as he strode towards the dungeons.

Harry quietly followed behind him, mastering the urge to just kill the bat right there. There was a reason to all this, he assumed. Snape had taken great pains to catch him in this situation, and instead of reporting him to Dumbledore or assigning him a few detentions right there, he was taking Harry to his office. Obviously he needed a reason to talk.

He followed Snape into his dank office. The specimen of various animal species floated in the jars stored in the dimly lit office. Harry was no longer spooked by the office. Sharingan could see through anything after all, be it light or dark.

"Potter…" said Snape slowly. Harry silently readied himself, his magic singing through his veins. His Sharingan could easily see the tension and danger in Snape's movements.

He now constantly maintained an illusion to hide his Sharingan, and the subtlety of that illusion required concentration. He had the knowledge of a master of Illusion magic, but none of his experience or skill. That would come with practice.

Snape waved his wand, and Harry could see a warding charm for privacy settle all around the office. Harry waited for the inevitable attack. This was an excellent reason for him to finish Snape off. If Snape dared to attack him without provocation, he would definitely take the opportunity.

But first he would have to leech some spells from this duel. Snape could be of some use now, at least.

Snape slashed his wand through the air, sending a powerful stunner against him. Harry's Sharingan observed the stunner as if it were hurtling at him in slow motion.

He didn't even bother to draw his wand as he surrounded himself with a shield charm by just a thought. The stunner hurtled back at Snape who dodged it with a single movement. His anguish was replaced by utter surprise as he pointed his wand at Harry again.

"_Reducto!"_

This time, Harry looked into Snape's eyes as the spell hurtled toward him. It was a dark crimson curse, testifying to the amplified power of that Reductor curse. He let the curse hit him head on.

Snape's eyes widened considerably as his spell impacted Harry, but was even more surprised as Harry dissolved into a murder of crows which reformed behind him. The boy had some talent, casting that illusion so rapidly and perfectly.

"Illusions, Potter? Interesting that Azkaban left enough of your mind to cast them…" sneered Snape. Harry did not respond, waiting for Snape to cast a more powerful spell. The days when Snape could goad him successfully were gone.

His wishes were not answered as Snape proceeded to unleash at him a veritable torrent of just basic spells. Reductors, Stunners, and disarmers hurtled at him at an unbelievable rate.

Harry dodged them all neatly, his Sharingan flaring red. Stray spells from Snape's wand destroyed his office thoroughly, smashing jars and overturning tables. Harry observed the efficiency with which he was being attacked. Snape was indeed an extremely skilled fighter.

It seemed that Snape had to be pushed as well.

Harry flicked his fingers, and the golden Spell Dumbledore had cast at him blasted towards Snape in full force. Sharingan eyes recorded Snape's instantaneous response.

"_Aucta vi clypeum!"_ shouted Snape, causing a wave of red magic to pulse outwards from him in a circle. The golden spell was deflected to the ceiling, causing it to crumble.

The remaining jars in the office turned into serpents at a wave of Snape's wand. The fifty serpents slithered towards Harry, hissing and spitting.

Harry smiled slightly; he knew how to counter this transfiguration. McGonagall had showed them how to do so in class the other day.

"_Deveniendum est ad nativae!" _he said loudly, not having mastered the spell enough to use it nonverbally. The serpents turned back to jars. Harry frowned.

Snape was hardly using his full repertoire. He was using at most fifth year magic, which could only mean one thing. If Snape attacked him like this, then it only meant he was being tested.

Snape and Harry circled each other in the trashed office. Harry was incensed by the Potions master's actions. He was being _tested_, of all things. He glanced at Snape, thinking his spells rapidly.

Dozens of stunners materialized around Harry, hurtling at Snape from all directions. But the greasy potions master blocked them all gracefully. The ground exploded around Harry in a circle as he used Moody's _expulso._

Snape was thrown into a desk as the spell crushed the jars into pieces. The office was completely destroyed now, causing Harry to frown.

He had been attacked by Snape too suddenly, and he had to find out why. He could not use Tsukuyomi as its effects would be obvious to Dumbledore.

_"Accio Veritaserum!" _he said clearly. No effect.

_Oh, right. It was probably destroyed in the spell exchange. I need to repair this, first._

_"Reparo!"_

The entire office began reforming slowly as the spell took effect. Broken Jars formed back, containing their appropriate creepy specimen. Desks joined back together, and books floated back to their appropriate stations. The floor healed.

"Not bad" came Snape's voice from behind him. "Not bad at all."

Harry whirled to face the revolting professor, a spell upon his lips. Snape looked as unharmed as ever, though his face showed the same anguish that it had before. Harry stared as Snape raised his hands in a sign of peace.

"I have a proposal to make to you, Potter. I suggest we both sit down." Harry decided to find out what Snape wanted. Running around in a fit of anger would gain him little. Snape looked like something had happened to him and he needed to find out what.

Information was everything.

…..

Harry faced Snape across the Professor's desk. Snape was being uncharacteristically polite to him, and his eyes could see that it was mostly genuine.

"What do you want?" he questioned coldly. He was consciously leashing his anger, analysing the situation with clarity. It was good that he had learned the illusion spell to mask the Sharingan.

Snape filled a goblet with wine, and handed another goblet of pumpkin juice to Harry. One scan with the Sharingan confirmed that the juice had no magical influences upon it. Harry sampled the juice, and found that it was rather exotically flavoured.

"I…received some disturbing news today, Potter. I was hoping I could talk to you about it." Snape's face became even more depressed, if possible.

"Alright, _Professor_. Make it quick." Harry's sarcasm did not even seem to faze Snape as the Potions master gathered his thoughts. His Sharingan analysed the older man, trying to find the source of his sudden switchover to cordiality.

All he could deduce was that Snape had been through an emotional upheaval, a very deep one. His very actions spoke of an all-consuming depression. Harry wondered. If _Snape_ was showing this much emotion, then something truly horrifying should have happened to him.

"Do you know your…_parents_" he hissed the word with venom. "are alive?" Harry's eyes shone red, and their goblets burst into shards. Dumbledore had told Snape? The old man was plotting something, and Snape was involved.

"Yes. Now, why do you know of it?" he questioned calmly. Snape looked slightly surprised, but composed himself quickly enough.

"Potter…whatever animosity I showed you during your time here…I had a reason for it. A very good reason" said Snape in a depressed voice.

Harry blinked. An apologetic Snape? Something was wrong here, very wrong. He did not say anything as the man continued his monologue.

"I need to tell you a few things about myself, but just telling will not suffice. I will need to show you…" here he withdrew a rune inscribed Pensieve. "Join me on a trip down the memory lane, "

Snape withdrew a strand of silvery memory from his temple and put it into the basin. _This has been an intriguing night,_ thought Harry as he was sucked into the Pensieve along with Snape.

…

**TWO HOURS LATER**

Harry materialized back in the office again, Snape joining him. It was now very early in the morning, and the castle was as quiet as ever.

He could not believe what he had just seen in the Pensieve. It was impossible. If it were true…then Snape was being as cruelly manipulated as he himself had been. Dumbledore was again showing his ruthlessness. People like Dumbledore…he shook his head slightly.

They played with lives for their own reasons. Played them, used them and abandoned them. It was worse that Dumbledore ignored the promptings of his so called loving conscience and still caused this much suffering.

One man's drive to correct his mistakes had caused this much pain. Pathetic. He sat silently with Snape in the office, his anger towards the man forgotten. If he played this right, the benefits would be great indeed.

"So…Dumbledore used my parents' 'deaths' to recruit you to his side, did he? He continues to surprise me. When did he reveal to you that my parents were actually alive?" asked Harry.

"Firstly, I regretted only the death of Lily. Dumbledore made me believe that my actions had caused her death. And yes, I met Lily and Potter yesterday and Lily…" here his face became emotionless. "Lily had the gall to call me dark scum. She actually called me a traitor, a disgusting piece of filth."

The entire room was shaking with the fury of their combined magics. Harry examined his steepled fingers before looking up.

"It is ironic. You always told me that my father was filth, but you never said a thing about my mother. You loved her, and she betrayed you. Dumbledore is a real hypocrite, isn't he? Love does not exist. I learnt that in Azkaban as they Cruciated me constantly. It is only the feeble mind's need to justify its existence. Power is all, Power is everything…", he whispered.

Snape had whitened at the fact that Harry was tortured at Azkaban.

"You were tortured?" he asked with a horrified voice. "Dumbledore actually authorized the torture of a minor? He told me you would be put in a cell with _minimum_ Dementor influence!"

Harry considered the situation. Snape could be a valuable ally if he just played the situation right. He would need to reveal some of his cards. Some. Not all.

"Oh yes. It was all for my good apparently. It was to awaken these eyes. That prophecy of his needed fulfilment after all…" with that, Harry removed his illusion causing Snape to gasp slightly.

Potter's eyes were now red in color, with three commas decorating it equi-angularly. "This is the Sharingan, awakened through misery and pain. The blood of Arcturus runs strong enough in me to be gifted these eyes."

For the first time in living memory, Snape was unable to speak. His mouth opened and closed as he looked at something thought to be just myth.

"_Sharingan?_ The Sharingan…so that was what he wanted all along. That was his game…" whispered Snape as he sat down to digest this new fact. It was extremely unexpected for someone like his rival's son to have awakened a mythical ability.

Harry sat calmly. Snape would require a few minutes to accept this fact. It was unexpected, after all.

"Sharingan. Extremely amplified magical capacity, Ability to see through all magic, copy all magic and predict human actions instantaneously. No wonder the old traitor wanted that on his side…which brings me to my proposal." Here Snape leaned forward, observing Harry with his pitch black eyes.

"We were both played by Dumbledore, played and betrayed in the worst possible manner. The Dark lord was the cause of much misery in my life, and Dumbledore has confirmed that he will return soon enough. He has also caused you enough pain. There is no need to mention the Potters who abandoned you to hell…"

"Your point?" asked Harry. Snape's reactions were definitely genuine. Harry knew that Snape must be a master of the mind arts to be so good at shelving emotions.

"I wish to free myself from their shackles. The only thing Dumbledore had on me was my guilt over Lily, which is irrelevant now. You have the Sharingan, of all things…" here wonder seeped into Snape's voice. "With it you can become greater than both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord. I can help you reach that greatness easily. All I say is…train with me for the remainder of your stay here and I will show you magics even Dumbledore has no knowledge of. I will teach you the true power of the magical arts. Consider it repayment for the suffering I have caused you."

At the notion of becoming the greatest magician, Harry's mind began racing. But his mind began to make other connections, knowing that Dumbledore was not daft to simply alienate Snape.

There was a reason for that as well. Ultimately, all Dumbledore wanted was the Sharingan under his control. A memory came to him unbidden. It was the one where Dumbledore had offered to train him in magic.

It all clicked in his mind at once as he glanced at Snape. Even in this, Dumbledore was using people. Snape was being manipulated even now.

_You disgust me, Dumbledore. You knew I would never accept help from you or the DoM, and definitely not from my so-called parents. So you engineered a situation with Snape that would make him want to train me. All this you did to Snape just so that I could train under him, someone who you know is firmly on the light side. You knew Snape would be murderously angry at my parents, and would want to train me in the Dark Arts to take revenge on them. It would be his ultimate way to hurt my 'parents'. You are using him, just as you are using me…_

His Sharingan blazed as he considered. He was sure that Dumbledore would want him to just learn battle magic from Snape, obviously thinking that he would be angry enough to refuse anything else. Dumbledore underestimated him still, thinking he would only want to use Snape to learn to fight

It would all fit in for his plan for a Sharingan using human weapon. Too bad the insight the Eternal Mangekyo granted him allowed him to see through Dumbledore's convoluted machinations.

_I won't tell Snape my suspicions, but I will use him too. I am sure Dumbledore won't expect what I am about to do now…_

With difficulty he managed to force a modicum of respect towards Snape in his voice. If this worked, then they would be out of Dumbledore's jurisdiction while he mastered Sharingan and magic.

"Sir, I have a proposal for you as well. It might interest you…" said Harry leaning towards Snape. Snape too leaned forwards slightly, interest apparent on his sallow face.

"Oh? Do tell…"

….

Hermione Granger sat at the Gryffindor table, silently eating her breakfast. It was apparently an important day as Dumbledore had requested the presence of the entire school. The four houses were in full attendance and the Great Hall reeked of formality.

"Where's Harry, Hermione?" asked Ron, his mouth stuffed with toast. Hermione grimaced at him, but was worried at the question. Harry was withdrawing completely from everyone. The only one he gave the time of his day was her.

It was just about a week since term started, and their entire group dynamic had changed. The So-called golden trio were non-existent, the only thing binding them even slightly being Hermione. Ron was too uncomfortable with Harry's situation and had become awkward and distant. The other Weasleys of course had no idea why Harry had changed so much.

Only she made any effort to converse with or even understand Harry. He had become too reclusive and too silent. She felt proud at the fact that only she could reach him somewhat.

She glanced at the Staff table as Dumbledore stood up and waved his wand. The food cleared of all the tables simultaneously. Hermione noted the absence of Snape at the Staff table.

_Odd. If Snape is absent, it can't be for anything good. I couldn't find Harry either. What could have possibly happened…?_

Her anxiety increased as the Headmaster requested for silence in the Hall. The students eventually stopped their chattering as Dumbledore fired a few blasts from his wand. Hermione could see the unreadable expression on Dumbledore's face.

"Thank you. We have convened here today to observe a tradition that has not been utilized for many years in Hogwarts. Indeed, the last time this happened was during the time of Phineas Nigellus Black, a former Headmaster of Hogwarts a few hundred years ago. Today we have gathered to witness as a Professor of Hogwarts chooses an apprentice to carry on his legacy."

Dumbledore surveyed the stunned faces of the students. Hermione had a growing pit of anxiety and fear in her stomach. What was Harry up to? It definitely was something to do with Harry, she just knew.

The teachers looked extremely uncomfortable. McGonagall's lips were thin to the point of disappearing, Flitwick and Sprout looked unnaturally sombre. Hagrid had a shocked expression on his shaggy face, and Hermione suspected he had been wearing it for a long time.

Whatever was coming, it was big.

"Professor Severus Snape is an acclaimed master of defensive and offensive magic, an acclaimed master in the art of potion making, and an acclaimed master in the theories of spell creation and magical flow. His prodigious magical talents are appreciated the world over. In the arts of duelling, he has little competition and his potions are coveted."

Hermione could hardly believe what she was hearing. _Snape_ was choosing an apprentice? The Gryffindor table had gone dead silent, as had all the other Tables. The Slytherins looked at Dumbledore expectantly.

"Professor Snape has found himself a worthy student, and has decided to take him on as an apprentice under the Hogwarts banner. Let us begin the ceremony."

A column of fire appeared behind Dumbledore, causing the students to gasp in surprise. The fire receded, revealing Snape and…Harry Potter?

The Hall went as silent as the grave for a second, and then started clamouring at their loudest. Hermione could see Ron opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Ginny had her mouth open in an 'o', and the Weasley twins were just staring. The Gryffindors were abjuring Harry for getting apprenticed to their most hated professor. The Huffelpuffs and Ravenclaws were talking excitedly and the Slytherins were yelling in outrage at a Gryffindor getting apprenticed to their beloved professor.

Hermione though stared at Harry as he stood behind Snape. In the full light of the great hall, Hermione could appreciate the changes in Harry's body. He wore black robes, exactly like Snape. He seemed relaxed as he took in the protesting students of the Hall. Snape himself was smiling slightly as he saw the reaction.

Hermione herself was amazed by how alike Snape and Harry looked. Oh, Harry's features were the same as the James Potter she had seen in pictures, but this was different. Snape and Harry wore their robes in the same style, both their thin faces were framed by black hair that went on to their shoulders, and both their faces were expressionless.

They really did look like master and apprentice. Hermione wondered what Harry was playing at.

"Silence" said Dumbledore, his face giving away nothing either. Hermione got the sense that the Headmaster disapproved of this arrangement, but she knew well that he had no say in the matter of apprenticeships. Every Professor was entitled by law to take on an apprentice to pass on his knowledge. The tradition was just considered archaic these days as Hogwarts was enough for anyone.

_That is what Harry wants,_ she thought with wonder. _Now he is answerable to Snape only and Dumbledore can control him only through Snape. And I do not think Snape will bend so easily to Dumbledore. I think Harry has made a prior arrangement with Snape._

_Well played, Harry, _she thought with pride. She could not express in words how proud she felt of Harry. Even when he was thrown back and forth into various hells, her friend was able to think calmly and control the situation. Dumbledore and the ministry were monsters, and Harry still thought clearly enough to outwit them.

"Professor Snape will initiate the bond now, and I will be the bonder. Professor Snape, …if you please?"

Harry and Snape stood to face each other, black eyes meeting black eyes. Dumbledore stood between them and raised his wand. Hermione knew that they were being bound by a powerful binding magic. _Hogwarts: A History_ did not say what, though.

"Will you, Harry James Potter, dedicate yourself wholly as an apprentice and learn my teachings with diligent care and reverence?" questioned Snape.

"I will" answered Harry firmly. A bright lasso of fire sprouted from Dumbledore's wand, encircling both master and apprentice.

"Will you, Severus Tobias Snape, protect me as my master and teach me to the best of your capability?" questioned Harry.

"I will." A second ring of golden fire encircled the duo.

"And do you, Harry James Potter, swear to carry my legacy and teachings with honor befitting them and pass them to an apprentice of your own choosing at a later date?" questioned Snape.

"I will" answered Harry, a smirk playing on his lips. The three rings of fire coalesced into one, and disappeared in a bright flash of light.

"You both are bound, as master and apprentice. Mr. Potter will be deemed as a master of the magical arts when the Professor thinks it fit. Our business here is done for the day. Let us adjourn to our duties!" said Dumbledore briskly as he disappeared in a blast of Phoenix fire.

Hermione saw Harry descending towards the Gryffindor table and she began readying the hundreds of questions she had for her friend. Ron and the others refused to even look at him. Hermione frowned. Harry would definitely be an outcast at Gryffindor house for a long time after this.

The students were all muttering in low voices, pointing periodically at Harry.

Damn Gryffindor prejudices…

….

Harry walked briskly down the corridor towards Moody's class and grimaced as Hermione assaulted him with a barrage of questions.

"Why Snape? Why an apprenticeship? Do you know how angry the house will be? Do you _want _to be outcast? Don't you think Snape is a dark wizard? You do, don't you?-" she fired off frantically.

"Calm down, Hermione" said Harry, cutting her off mid-tirade. He strode forward calmly, his black robes remaining curiously still. Hermione took a deep breath as she ceased the torrent of questions.

"Don't worry. I have just freed and given myself access to privileged magical education. Snape understands the situation, so you don't need to worry about him mistreating me. And the House matters not. Their anger with me suits my purposes…" said Harry quietly as they pushed open the door into Moody's class. Hermione stared at him.

Every move he made was now calculated. It was almost as if he was born to be… "Harry, did the hat perchance want to put you in Slytherin?"

The first vestiges of a small smile appeared on Harry's face as he looked at Hermione. If only she knew… these days he wondered if Slytherin House would truly have served him better than Gryffindor ever had. He did get good friends in Gryffindor, but in the end it was all ultimately worthless.

"I'll tell you later, Hermione."

She nodded. The class were all settled down, and were opening their defence books to the correct page. Harry waited patiently for the dramatic entrance of the DADA professor. Something did not sit well with him about Moody, Sharingan told him that there was something seriously wrong with the man.

Sure enough the doors banged open, startling quite a few students. In strode Professor Moody, carrying a jar containing what appeared to be three spiders in it. Harry wondered what would require three spiders. Most likely some gruesome demonstration of curses.

"Put those away!" snarled Moody, indicating the textbooks that were open. "You wont need the books when I am here. Let us begin with a review of your previous year. I got a letter from Lupin that said you were well grounded in the theory of Dark Creatures. But you are all behind…very behind on how to deal with curses."

Moody violently strode to the board and waved his wand, causing three words to appear upon it. _The unforgivable curses._ Harry's magic began boiling in anger. So that was what the spiders were for. Moody was going to demonstrate those curses on the arachnids.

Hermione was looking near to tears as she stared at Harry. No doubt she had deduced that this would be traumatic in the extreme for the Potter. She only knew her friend was tortured by the Cruciatus…but she had no idea of its effects. Harry had adopted his new cold expression, his face giving away nothing as he stared at the DADA professor.

"Curses, they come in many forms. But of them all, the darkest are the Unforgivable curses. Of course, there exist many more dangerous curses…but these are called the darkest for a very specific reason. Now…can anyone name an unforgivable?"

Ron lifted up his hand uncertainly. Moody pointed to him.

"My dad told me of one…the _Imperius _curse?"

"Arthur weasley's son, eh?" A nod from Ron was the response. "Good man, your father. Yes…the _Imperius_. Total control. Watch carefully…"

Harry activated Sharingan as Moody cast the curse on the hapless spider. Amazingly, the spider cartwheeled and tap-danced to the amusement of the class.

"Think it funny, do you? Would it be funny if I did it to you?" growled Moody. The class fell absolutely silent at his threat. Harry watched on unblinkingly as Moody asked for someone to name another curse.

Neville lifted up his hand. Moody slowly looked at him and nodded his permission. "The…_Cruciatus_ curse?" he mumbled. Moody stared even longer at him, and Harry's Sharingan observed Neville's reactions. Obviously, Neville had also suffered by the Cruciatus. Harry found himself curious…exactly how had the timid Longbottom suffered under that unforgivable?

"Frank and Alice's son?" Neville nodded tremulously, looking unutterably sad at the mention of his parents. _It was his parents_, deduced Harry. His face showed great sadness at the mention of his parents.

Moody fished out another spider.

_"Crucio!"_

The spider began to writhe uncontrollably in what were obviously the throes of pain. Harry's hands tightened slightly upon the edges of his bench as he saw a repeat of what was done to him. His magic began leaking out, causing the room to shake violently. The ceiling began to rip up and the torches exploded into flames.

Moody immediately stopped his curse as the class looked at the powerful magical reaction in alarm.

"Its alright, Harry, Its alright, its alright…" soothed Hermione continuously. She was rubbing his arm soothingly in an attempt to calm him. Harry leashed his magic consciously, ashamed of himself for losing control so easily. He remembered the one thing Snape had taught him before he accepted apprenticeship.

_ , always remember. Those who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, those who cannot restrain themselves or their emotions…they become easy prey for their enemies. Learn this well from me…I know, for I have spent years behind enemy lines._

It was advice he had sworn to try his best to adhere to. Harry knew Snape was no angel, but he knew whereof he spoke. Whether or not Snape was on the side of the light, Harry was sure that the man was a master of controlling his emotions.

Hermione became alarmed at how fast Harry's face returned to calmness. Neville was shaking like a wind in the leaf.

"Pain. One does not need thumbscrews or knives to torture if they know the Cruciatus curse, a truly monstrous spell. Now, anyone know any others?" he questioned grimly.

Harry's Sharingan flashed as he prepared the intent required to cast that curse. His magic sang darkly in his veins as he answered:

_"Avada Kedavra" _he whispered audibly. The classroom shuddered as the intent to kill flooded its space. Hermione shuddered and Ron looked pale. Moody looked at him speculatively as the entire class quietened in fear. Some were actually shaking.

Moody waved his wand, and a faint golden light settled all over the classroom. The class seemed much better, smiling comfortably. Hermione grinned at Harry, who returned the speculative look at Moody.

"Cheering charm" said Harry quietly, recognizing its positive effects. Moody strode over to Harry purposefully and set his electric blue eyes on him.

"A word after class, Potter." Harry nodded infinitesimally. The idiotic students here could not know true darkness until they experienced it. He just tried out the basic tenets of illusionary magic…projecting intent. Though what he did could be called a tad dark.

"Potter got that right…the last curse is the killing curse. No blocking it. No counter curse." He raised his wand and pointed it at the last spider. The class held its breath slowly, as if it knew what was coming.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!" _roared Moody. A blinding light of green filled the room as the spider just slumped, lifeless. Harry's face might as well be carved from stone as he observed the spectacle. Hermione just clung tightly to his arm, a horrified look upon her face.

"Not nice. Not pleasant. No one has ever blocked it…except the one who sits before me."

The class stared at Harry who stared impassively at Moody. Harry just waited patiently, waiting for Moody to give him his after-class reprimand.

….

Moody grabbed Harry's hands and began to drag him violently to Dumbledore's office. Harry just looked at him, feeling his anger rise.

"Come on, Potter. We go to see Dumbledore. It seems you have been dabbling in things best left alone."

Moody was blasted into the wall, his cane clacking away to some distance. Harry did not move from his position, watching grimly as the Professor got up groggily and Summoned his cane back to him. The few students passing them in the corridor looked at Harry with open mouthed surprise.

Moody snarled incoherently, and slashed his wand at Harry. A sickly yellow light flashed towards him rapidly, but Harry saw it coming a mile away with his Sharingan activated. He sent Dumbledore's golden spell at it, and watched as Moody's spell was overcome by it. The professor shielded himself efficiently from that spell, watching Harry as if seeing him in a new light.

"Attacking Professors, Potter? It seems that fame has gone into your head" he mused as he pointed his wand at Harry. Harry held his own wand towards him, and replied coldly.

"Never manhandle me again. You will regret it if you do."

"Will I? Time to teach you a little lesson on learning your place, Potter!" spat Moody. Harry's Sharingan began glowing, unknown to them. He readied himself for an all-out fight with someone vastly more experienced than him. But he had the Sharingan, after all, and a reasonable array of spells.

"_Hastam Tenebrarum!" _yelled Moody, and a pointed spear of Darkness shot from his wand towards Harry. Sharingan recorded the spell perfectly, and he could see the power of the spell.

"_Aucta vi clypeum!"_ he whispered, pouring magic into the wide range deflector. What he had not anticipated was what happened next. Everyone in the corridor was thrown away in the blast of magic, including Moody. The spell however was deflected towards the ceiling and just drilled a hole through it, possibly going out into the night sky.

Magic filled the corridor as Harry's eyes blazed, threatening to break the illusion that hid them.

"You wanted to kill me? You shot a _lethal_ spell at me?" whispered Harry. Moody just got up again, glaring at his student. Harry just wanted to kill the man right there. His eyes morphed into the eternal Mangekyo Sharingan as he moved towards Moody, who readied his spell.

"Enough" came an unwelcome voice behind them, and phoenix fire enveloped the trio as they were whisked away to the Headmaster's office.

…

"Headmaster, I tell you! This…_student_…knows how to cast the Killing curse. He released the intent quite maliciously, using illusionary magic to project himself! He is a dark wizard! Corrupted him already have you, Snape?" snarled Moody, going up to stand in front of Snape.

Snape looked at him amusedly, as did Harry. "My apprentice only used illusionary magic which was basically harmless. I consider it a failure of this school that fourth years were unable to throw it off. And Moody, I would advise you to keep quiet about things you know nothing about. Consequences, you know…"

Dumbledore stood up, looking at Harry inquisitively from behind his half moon glasses.

"Moody, clear out. Severus, I would ask you to as well, but the law forbids me. I would like to speak to Harry alone, Alastor. Move, now!" he said firmly. Moody cleared out, grumbling his disagreement with the entire affair.

Dumbledore turned his gaze upon Harry.

"You may not be directly answerable to me, Harry, but the fact remains that I am the Headmaster of this school. I forbid you from ever using Illusionary magic on students again. Breaking this rule will result in your immediate expulsion" he said, much to Harry's amusement.

"Really? Feel free to expel me…" he said with relish. Dumbledore's face firmed, as he looked at Harry. Snape was smirking in the background, this had been a heck of a week. First he had his most hated student becoming his apprentice; next he had the same student following his own tenets as closely as possible. Snape was reminded of himself as Harry played his cards.

"Dumbledore, don't flatter yourself. You need me, but I don't need you. Expel me, and who knows if I might tread a not so desirable…path" he said softly. Dumbledore's eyes widened at this new threat. Harry was not exactly pulling any punches here.

"Would you really join the dark, Harry?" questioned Dumbledore in a sad voice. Harry just snorted. This man's view of the world had been warped completely. Light and Dark, _please!_

"You really are a fool" said Harry. "There is no light and Dark, there are only people who want what they want. They will do anything for it. Just like you did, and just like those abominations who call themselves my parents did. There is only the person, and what happiness he can _take_ for himself. Do not think to sway me with pathetic arguments of light and Dark" he finished derisively.

Dumbledore looked pale and drawn, as he was reminded partially of Tom's philosophy. True, they were the ones who had pushed Harry to this point, but he had trusted in the prophecy. The prophecy had said that Harry was "born to kill the dark". So he had to be light, shouldn't he?

"Professor Snape, I wish to leave. Dumbledore, I did ask you the names of those who sacrificed themselves for me. You owe me more than you can ever repay…so at least accomplish the small things I ask of you" said Harry as he and Snape exited the Headmaster's office disdainfully.

Fawkes sang a haunting note, causing Dumbledore to put his hands over his face.

_I thought Severus and Harry could heal each other, but they are going in a different direction than anticipated. Lily and James will be in for more heartbreak than ever, I fear. And Isabelle will stand no chance against Sharingan. Her strength is not in duelling but in warding and sensing magics. There she is a rare prodigy. But otherwise in raw power, she is as strong as Minerva. But Harry outsrips her in every way in pure mastery and instinct of magic. His instinct has been amplified drastically by Sharingan._

_I must alert the Potters. I never thought Severus would take a true interest in the boy, I only assumed he would teach Harry to get back at James and Lily. Harry casting dark curses would hurt James more than anything, but Harry would be strong. That is what I thought Severus would do._

_But now…I miscalculated. Severus will turn Harry into a truly feared mage. With Sharingan…I daresay he will be able to hold off Minerva at full strength by the end of the year. When he reaches full strength in magic and Mangekyo together…_

_It will be a different story altogether._


	5. Chapter 5

**Many thanks for all your encouragement! It helps. It helps a lot.**

CHAPTER 5

Lily Potter folded the letter in her hands, thinking about its contents. Severus had taken on Harry as an apprentice? A part of her leapt in joy at the prospect of her son landing such a master. But she held nothing but loathing for Severus. He was the one that was responsible for all of this, giving the Prophecy to Voldemort. Albus had told her that Severus had loved her all this while, and had been severely broken by her 'death'.

Severus had supposedly watched over Harry all these years because Dumbledore used her so-called death to make him. That made her soften slightly, but she still despised her once friend. The man had, according to Albus, bargained with Voldemort to spare her when he attacked the family. How could he even think that she would survive without her husband or children?

She looked out of the window, the lush and vast lawn soothing her eyes. They, that is, her James and Isabelle resided in a Chateau of the Potter family in France. It was not under the Potter name any longer, though.

She could faintly hear the voices of her daughter and husband conversing, and went to join them. Walking directly through the drawing room, she came to the entrance hall of the Chateau. She could see her beautiful daughter, and her husband lounging on the sofa.

Isabelle had inherited her looks from James' mother. Same blonde hair, and the same aristocratic looks. She was a Black, much more than she was a Potter. Dorea Black's blood ran strongly in her daughter.

"What are you talking about?" she asked curiously. James and Isabelle turned to her, and Isabelle replied. "Hello, Mother. It is time for me to go to Hogwarts. The tournament delegation from Beauxbatons leaves tonight and Madame Maxime has officially invited me. I am all set."

James and Lily's faces fell into ones of despair and longing at this. Their children were going to meet at last, and the meeting was not going to be pleasant. They had put Harry through too much, and they knew he would hold nothing but hatred for his family. Lily had finally given up any and all hope of having her youngest back in the family. Obviously, she realized just how far they had gone in trying to arm Harry for the prophesized struggle. It was abominable, she knew, and it tore at her heart like nothing ever had.

But it was essential, she convinced herself. The moment that Prophecy was made, their course was set. They had given him to the Department, who had assured them that they would awaken Harry's eyes soon enough.

They had tried, and researched like never before. But Voldemort swooped in early, killing the agents masquerading as the Potters. She felt heartrending sorrow at the fact that some other woman had loved her son enough to die for him, and still the credit went to her, undeserving as she was.

After that, the Department had been sending yearly reports to the Potters on the status of Harry. Dumbledore had placed him in the home of her Sister, Petunia. He had taken some of her own blood, and made a blood ward of great power to protect Harry.

The power of love was truly wonderful. Her love for her son had produced wards of such power that Dumbledore was convinced not even Voldemort could penetrate them.

"Mother, you seem lost in thought. Are you thinking about…about _Harry_?"

Lily shook herself out of her thoughts. "Yes, dear. Harry…he is all I think about these days. Somehow I feel you should never have stumbled upon your father's study that day."

Isabelle nodded, small tears falling down her face. Her research had almost cost her little brother his sanity, and she could not stop it.

She remembered the day all too well. She had been seven, and her reasoning and analytical skills were those of a fifteen year old.

_A seven year old Isabelle hefted her practice wand, and cast a transfiguration on her dolls, making them come alive. She shouted in joy at her success, she had been trying out that spell for days now. Magic came to her very easily, for some reason._

_The dolls ran away, without their little mistress to control them. Mainly because she did not know how. Her spell was mainly an animation, she did not know how to do direction. So she ran frantically after her favourite and now alive doll, which ran into the adjoining room._

_Her father's study. She had been expressly forbidden by her parents to enter the study today. She was an obedient child, so she had played with magic as usual. _

_But now the doll was about to break into the study and it did. She slowly followed it into the study. It was a Victorian era kind of room, full of antiques and furniture of that bygone era. She looked around the room for a bit, and spied her happily dancing doll. It was staring at her, and she stared right back. Suddenly she made a lunge for it, and it ran._

_It ran right through the opposite wall. Frantic with worry, Isabelle followed. She was in another room, and she heard faint voices. She looked around and saw that her doll's transfiguration had run out. She picked it up with relief and was about to go, when she heard her mother's voice._

_"Petunia neglected him? He is all alone? Oh James, how long can I keep doing this? Our son…our youngest…" her mother was obviously crying._

_"Lily, it has to be done. Department researchers are steadily trying to find a method, and our only clue is the subject should be in a state of misery for the eyes to awaken. Don't you want your son to live?" came the voice of Professor Dumbledore._

_"Of course I do! We know of the Sharingan's power, but Arcturus wrote nothing on how to awaken it, only that it needs misery to do so. My son's entire childhood is gone due to this…this prophecy of yours!" said James' clear voice._

_"The Sharingan. It has been determined that only once the Sharingan has been awakened will Harry have freedom in life, and a real chance at fulfilling the prophecy. You know he has never been wrong" came Dumbledore's deep voice._

_"Maybe. Elliot never leaves the planet room, and you know he is close to barmy. You trusted my son's life to that…that…" her mother seemed lost for words._

_"Elliot is never wrong, was never wrong, and will never be wrong. He is a powerful seer, and he is our interpreter. I am only looking towards the long term safety of your son and our society, Lily. He will be the linchpin of our effort to eradicate the dark, and we will do whatever is required of us to make sure he will be strong enough" came Dumbledore's certain voice._

_But Isabelle was shaking, and tears were streaming down her face. She felt a large jolt of deprivation, and a huge sense of loss. Brother? She had a brother? All this while, and she had not even set eyes on him?_

_She screamed in anguish and confusion, and the lights flickered. She could hear her parents running towards her location. She would have her answers, NOW!_

She came out of her trip down the memory lane as James spoke.

"My heart nearly stopped when you threatened us at wandpoint, Isabelle. The magic in the room was palpable, and Perenelle felt its strength. Why did she have to tell you everything? You were a child…just a child…" he mused sadly.

"No, father. Professor Flamel thought she was doing the right thing, making me think I was helping my brother somehow. She did not expect me to find out so much about the Sharingan, finding things even the Department had missed. It _was _my fault. In my childish urge to help Harry, I found out the way to activate Sharingan. I still cannot believe Dumbledore actually did what I theorized…I am damned, father. For helping do that to Harry, I am damned forever…" she said tearfully. James and Lily looked shocked at the emotion that their eldest was displaying. Isabelle had mastered Occlumency two years ago, and she was remarkably composed since then.

The family of three sat together in silence and anguish, suffering in the knowledge that Harry was probably lost to them forever, and even hated them.

They had brought it upon themselves. Whatever their reasons had been, they had brought it upon themselves.

…..

The dungeon was as depressingly dark as usual as Harry and Snape faced each other. The Potions Professor silently evaluated as Harry rapidly cast a series of blasting hexes at targets.

"You must be more efficient, Potter. You have the advantage of wandless magic, and the Sharingan. Do not use your hands for any useless gestures. Channel magic through your entire body, and if the situation demands it, your eyes. Have you ever tried it?" asked Snape. Harry shook his head. It had always been some kind of instinct to use his hands to channel magic. A legacy of using wands for years, probably.

"Then try it. Unleash the reductor curse upon the table there, using only the Sharingan."

Harry stared with his Sharingan at the table, instinctively moulding the magic for a reductor. To his satisfaction, the table just dissolved into floating dust.

"The power is extremely refined, professor. And much amplified" he said calmly. Snape nodded. It was expected; as Harry's mastery of Sharingan slowly grew, so would his magical power.

"As expected, your talent is limitless with the Sharingan. My advice to you is to keep it activated constantly, even in sleep if that is possible. I assume that like all magic, familiarity is a cornerstone to its mastery. Now, it is time for you to resume your reading of apparition theory. Try to apply Arithmancy to it, and feel free to ask me any questions. I will be brewing a fluxweed agent presently" said Snape.

Harry nodded. It was the best decision he had made, apprenticing himself to Snape. The Potions master was truly a master of the mind, and he had seen the rage that was festering in Harry. Rage and despair.

Thus he had taught him the art of controlling one's emotions. The basics to Occlumency and eventually Legilimency. Snape said that Sharingan protected him from all forms of mental intrusion, but the mind arts would help culture his thoughts.

He removed the scroll Snape himself had authored for his reading, and began reading up on the theory of Apparition. Snape was truly a multifaceted man, and Harry cursed himself for not appreciating his knowledge sooner.

And what a vast knowledge it was. Harry presumed that Snape's knowledge in the arts of Offensive magic even surpassed Dumbledore's. He remembered what Snape had taught him in the one month that had passed them by.

_" , I note that you expel much unnecessary energy when casting spells. It is not flamboyance that is the hallmark of a true wizard, but conservativeness. Your magic must be subtle, and highly efficient. This is what I will teach you first. That and Transfiguration. Use Sharingan and moreover, you will be independently studying illusionary magic. That illusion with the ravens…it was inspired. You have a great talent for that field, apparently."_

So he had. Harry was amazed by how much more efficient his spell casting had become. Snape had him perform the toughest transfigurations in his knowledge for two hours a day continuously. He said it would allow Harry to feel the magic flowing through him as Transfiguration was the most draining and vivid art of magic.

He could actually feel it. Flowing through him like a river of torrential energy, like the light of the sun. He could feel it energizing his mind, fortifying his body. But his eyes were the centre of his magical flow, of that he was sure. Snape had left the mastery of the Sharingan to Harry, and he had been trying hard. Not without results, certainly. Now he could copy spells a lot easier, and his reflexes were unbelievable. His physical training also paid off.

If Voldemort were coming back, he would be prepared. But not just for Voldemort. To become the most powerful wizard ever was his goal, now. But he had a way to go. Magic was very vast, and even with the Sharingan…

He had decided to leave the Eternal Mangekyo alone for now. Of course he would try and master Tsukuyomi, but he would not further use those eyes till he had absolutely mastered Sharingan. At the rate he was going, he had no doubt that day would come sooner rather than later.

Classes were also rather simple, as he simply copied the relatively simple spells and performed it on the first try, using the rest of the time to understand the content of the many books he had photographically memorized. It had driven Hermione mad, and the teachers were extremely impressed.

Flitwick had touted him as a charms prodigy, and McGonagall was raving about how much of his father's genes he was showing. But all the students were now avoiding him assiduously after Snape choosing him as an apprentice. That and him being very aloof voluntarily. His forbidding appearance certainly caused them all to back off.

He wore traditional black Wizarding robes, with his long hair framing his face. His hidden Sharingan were constantly activated, instantly profiling any person they saw. He remained extremely quiet now, talking only when necessary. Only Hermione could even have a full conversation with him.

The Weasley family had become distant after his apprentice initiation. To them, Harry thought, it was the ultimate betrayal. They were immature enough to label Snape light or Dark without even understanding the terms or the man. Typical of brainwashed people.

_Though…I have been brainwashed in a way as well. _

That was something he kept hidden in the deepest recesses of his mind. His rage at being imprisoned unjustly, at the betrayal of Dumbledore and his parents, and most of all…the urge to simply strike back at the cruel world that had made him suffer. He could not let himself feel those emotions, so he kept them buried.

But he could feel the anger, the utter cold rage burning in him constantly like a second awareness. Harry recalled what Snape had taught him about anger. During the first week, Snape had challenged him to a duel and he had accepted. And gotten defeated soundly.

_" , if all it takes to unbalance you is a few quips about your imprisonment and torture, and insinuations about your parents…then you will be dead sooner than you think. What did I tell you? Do not wear your heart on your sleeve! Do not give away anything! During a duel, you need to focus. Turn your anger…into focus!"_

Those words resonated deep within him, and he resumed studying apparition theory with a newfound vigour. His parents were at best his enemies, and Dumbledore as well. It would do him no good to waste his anger on them, or on his sister for his various betrayals. That was futile. And he despised futility, something he had learned really fast with Snape's mindset.

The Potions Master, though deceived so thoroughly by Lily Potter, did not let it affect him for too long. His period of grief had been short and intense, and then he threw himself into his work with a passion.

Harry had done the same, using all the anger and despair he felt as fuel for his goals. He had come farther in one month's study than he had ever thought possible. Sure, he had an accomplished master to instruct him, and his Sharingan. But even then, he was amazed by his progress. He was even able to give Snape a decent duel now.

But of course, he was far from beating Snape. The man used little advanced magic in their duels, as he wished for Harry to fight with just instinct instead of throwing back powerful spells at him. That had developed his instinct and innovation quite a bit. Snape had begun to teach him the utter versatility of all magic.

It had dawned on him that it was skill that mattered more than strength. The skill itself was strength, said Snape. Dumbledore was certainly very powerful in terms of raw magical capacity, but Snape said that the Old man's mastery of transfiguration and light magic was second to none. It made him realise just how far he was from matching Dumbledore in magical skill.

But he had confidence that he could surpass him. The power his eyes possessed was unfathomable, and he was only barely understanding them. He turned another page of his treatise, focusing upon the techniques of apparition.

A quarter hour of their reading went by, and Fawkes appeared in a burst of fire dropping a note into Snape's hands. The Potions master's expression screamed irritation as he read the note. Harry looked on in interest.

"What does Dumbledore say?"

"That we are not to miss the welcoming ceremony at any cost. We are to attend the welcome of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang which will occur within an hour. Let us go" he said with a small grimace.

Harry nodded, and put away his scroll. Apparition was an extremely interesting topic, and one which would be very useful. He had to learn it and fast.

Sighing, he accompanied Snape to the Hogwarts grounds to welcome the delegations. It began now for him. He had to find a way past any wards that would secure the Goblet of Fire. It was the only way for him to test his Sharingan in a real situation.

…

**HALF AN HOUR LATER**

Harry stood alongside his housemates, staring at a tranquil black lake lit by the moonlight. Hogwarts had a really haunting and beautiful quality at night, which appealed to him for some reason. His Sharingan could see the magic leaking off the Lake, and it was enormous. There had to be something magical at its bed, thought Harry. He only knew of the Giant Squid's presence, but nothing else. Time to remedy this hole in his knowledge.

He turned to Hermione who stood close beside him. His shallow year mates had obviously cast him out, and Hermione was cast out because she refused to leave his side. They mocked Hermione's loyalty to the house.

_What do they know of loyalty? Only the betrayed can see the true value of loyalty. I treasure Hermione's loyalty to me, even if I never say so._

He had spent hours and hours making sure Hermione was truly loyal, that she was not merely Dumbledore's pawn. The Sharingan told him she was alright, but he needed more.

During the second week of term, he had slipped Veritaserum into her drink to make sure.

_"What is your name?" asked Harry shortly, watching Hermione's eyes glaze over. They were protected by his privacy charm._

_"Hermione Jane Granger" said Hermione in a blank voice._

_"Do you intend harm to me?"_

_"Never"_

_"Do you intend to betray me?"_

_"Never"_

_"Have you ever held or do you currently hold any ill feelings towards me?"_

_"Never"_

_"Are you…are you my friend of your own will, or has…someone asked you to be it?"_

_A flicker of emotion passed across Hermione's face, causing Harry's eyes to widen. Only extremely powerful emotions showed in this state._

_"I am your friend, Harry. Your best and closest friend, of my own free will"_

Harry sighed at this memory causing Hermione to turn to him with concern. He should not have turned to Veritaserum freely, but a part of his mind truly wanted to trust in Hermione like before. There was no way he would set himself up for betrayal again, not like before. So he had snuck the Veritaserum from Snape's stores.

Ron was in the background, not shunning them but not standing up for them either. Hermione seemed upset, but it caused Harry to heave a sigh of relief. In the coming years, he would have no time for a dead weight like Ron who would surely drag him down.

"Is something the matter, Harry?" asked Hermione lightly. Harry had forced her not to bring up the issue of his unjust incarceration yet, not in public. It was a powerful play, he said. A tool that would make the ministry back down when he needed it to, and a tool not to be used lightly. She understood. Harry wanted leverage over the ministry.

"Yes. Hermione, what lies beneath the lake besides the Squid?" he asked as both of them looked at the lake. The quiet was absolute as the Hogwarts students waited for their guests, only Dumbledore and McGonagall conversing normally.

"Many things reside there, Harry. Most well-known are the Mer people, creatures of water and earth. Grindylows also stay there in their hundreds, as do many other magical species not yet documented. The lake is magical, after all, and hides many secrets…" she said wistfully, sighing at the thought of not knowing said secrets.

Harry's eyes morphed into the Eternal Mangekyo as he beheld the Lake in all its glory. Dimly he could see the squid resting on the seabed, flanked by many shapes. He observed them quietly. Hogwarts was an extremely magical place, and only with his Sharingan had he come to appreciate the true ingenuity of its magic.

_What would the founders say if they found out that their successor had cast a child into hell for the greater good?_

His morbid thoughts were interrupted when Dumbledore raised his hand to point at the lake. Ominously rising was a great mast of a greater ship. The ship rose with a powerful surge, throwing water off its great body while a man shouted to anchor it.

The students started muttering excitedly when Dumbledore announced that it was Durmstrang's ship. Hermione rolled her eyes as Ron started going ballistic to Seamus about how he would meet _Viktor_ Krum.

The ship made board on the shores, and a posse of students alighted with their Headmaster at the front. The headmaster of Durmstrang wore several furs, and a fur cap. The same attire was mimicked by his students, but Harry could see their furs were a lot less opulent.

"Dear old Hogwarts" he said in a hearty, unctuous voice. Harry's eyes easily picked out his falsity, knowing him to bear great malice towards Hogwarts and its residents. He watched as he greeted Dumbledore.

"Dumbledore, my dear man. How are you, How are you?" he said heartily.

"Blooming thank you, Professor Karkaroff" said Dumbledore, shaking the man's hand. Harry saw his magic and knew it to be strong. Nothing in front of Dumbledore, of course, whose magic outshone everyone in the ground combined. He knew his own magic was somewhat similar.

"This, professor, is my student Viktor Krum" introduced Karkaroff. Dumbledore nodded his head politely at the Quidditch star, who shot him a look of respect. Harry saw to his slight alarm that the Hogwarts population were practically drooling at the mouth, especially Ron. His erstwhile friend was frothing like a mad bull, and Harry feared that the red head would molest Krum any moment now. He shuddered at the thought.

"Honestly, he is just a Quidditch player!" said Hermione to Harry. Harry nodded at this, agreeing wholeheartedly. The adulation Krum received was frankly overwhelming, and Harry watched as Karkaroff made his way through the crowds with a smug look on his face. He had chosen to warm up at the castle rather than wait for Beauxbatons.

They only had to wait for another quarter of an hour when a first year went berserk.

"It's a dragon!" she shouted wildly. Harry snorted slightly, as did Hermione. Harry's Sharingan could clearly observe what was obviously a carriage drawn by…

_Abraxan Horses. Great strength, great endurance and an ability to fly very long distances._

"Unless I am much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons has arrived!" said Dumbledore. Harry's Sharingan began glowing as the horses touched down, revealing a magnificent carriage large enough to comfortably house twenty adults.

The students stared as the carriage door opened to let out the students, who stepped out carefully and formed a line on both sides. Dumbledore walked out as the carriage door opened once more to reveal a very tall woman. A woman as tall as Hagrid. The students of all four houses were muttering as Dumbledore kissed the hand of the woman who towered above him.

"Greetings, and welcome to Hogwarts, Madame Maxime" he said in a cultured voice. Madame Maxime looked at Dumbledore scrutinizingly, before she nodded.

"Thank you, Dumbly-dorr. Our pleasure to be here. Has Karkaroff arrived?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, and he is currently warming up at the castle with his students. Shall we join them?" Madam Maxime walked forward regally with a nod, Dumbledore beside her. Everyone fell behind them naturally as they walked towards the castle.

"Who is that girl? She seems to know both Madam Maxime and Dumbledore well…" asked Hermione, pointing out the girl to Harry. Harry's Sharingan settled on her, evaluating her magic.

Impressive. Very strong for her age, as strong as Minerva McGonagall. He would have some competition, it seemed. He also observed another extremely beautiful girl walking behind Maxime. A Veela, obviously, and her magic was also strong. Beauxbatons, it seemed, was quite the precocious school.

He walked into the entrance hall and plotted ways to get into the tournament. He would not be denied entrance at any cost.

….

Harry sat calmly, sampling each dish on the rather exquisite cuisine of the welcoming feast. The elves had outdone themselves trying to make the guests feel more at home. He watched as Hermione poked at what looked like a black steak.

Draco Malfoy was giving everyone superior looks at the fact that Krum sat at their table. Harry met his eyes, and the Malfoy heir cringed and meekly went back to his food. Snorting softly, Harry went back to profiling the students of the other schools.

"Excuse me, are you finished with zis Bouillabaisse?" came a soft and melodious voice behind him. Harry turned, and his eyes widened at the sight he saw. They were two girls, one was the Veela girl from Beauxbatons but she was of no interest to him though she looked at him interestedly. No, the one who interested him stood at her side.

She was tall, a little taller than him. She had blue eyes, and blonde hair and her magic seemed even stronger at this close proximity. Her face bore a small resemblance to Lily Potter, and he knew at whom he was staring.

"Excuse me, but can I have zis Bouillabaise?" the Veela asked in a more insistent voice. Hermione nodded and handed it to her. The duo then turned their attention to the confrontation building between Harry and the blonde girl.

"It's nice to meet you again, Harry" said the blonde girl, looking at Harry emotionally. Harry's Sharingan picked up a great deal of regret in her, not for others but for herself. Her eyes were shining with repressed tears. Hermione looked at both of them in surprise, as was the Veela girl. He could feel Dumbledore's eyes on him, as well as Snape's.

He turned his eyes onto her, watching her closely. "Hello, Isabelle" he said in a cold voice, and he saw her flinch.

"You know this girl, Harry?" asked Hermione in a surprised voice. Harry nodded slightly, and went back to his meal, not paying the slightest attention to his sister.

"Harry, do you want to sit at our table? Talk...Talk a bit?" asked Isabelle uncertainly. Harry turned to her, and lost control of his magic. The dishes started rattling as his magic filled the air. His eyes morphed into the Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan as he stared into Isabelle's eyes.

_He stood opposite her in the world of Tsukuyomi, with its racing clouds and endless land. The very world gave off a sense of despair and doom._

_"I want nothing to do with you, Isabelle" he said coldly, facing her across the plain. Isabelle just looked him calmly, she seemed to have gained back her composure._

_"I am afraid you have no such option, brother. Our family will be fighting together in the coming months, whether you want it or not" she said seriously." Harry, I know what was done to you-"_

_Here Harry's mind went blank, and the clouds of Tsukuyomi started churning in response. She was in on it, somehow! She had something to do with his pain! Nothing could escape him in this world, nothing!_

_"You had something to do with it all…" he whispered. Isabelle looked alarmed at this, shaking her head. Harry could feel her trying to call up her magic and free herself from his illusion._

_"No use. I am god here, and you were foolish enough to look into my eyes. Are you in any way responsible for my pain?" he asked once more. He could feel her trying to access her Occlumency, she was ignoring him completely._

_One flash of his eternal eyes, and she was shackled to a wall. Harry's eternal Mangekyo blazed red as he looked deep into her eyes, forcing up her chin roughly with his hand. _

_"If you will not tell me, I will rip it out of your mind. Legilimency is nothing compared to this technique, Occlumency is just a minor irritant. I even caught Dumbledore with this, and made him beg for the pain to stop" he said menacingly._

_"You would torture your own sister?" she asked in a pitiful voice. Harry spat at her, a small part of his rage showing. "Those fools we call parents had no problem abandoning me to worse. I have no problems doing the same."_

_Isabelle started screaming as Harry ripped through her Occlumency barriers like it was nothing. Information flooded his mind, but it was all irrelevant. He sighed._

_When would she learn that no one could oppose him in this world? His eyes blazed a frightening red as he prepared to just rip her mind apart in search for information. She would be in a coma for a few days, but she would survive. Albeit damaged._

_"Isabelle…" she looked at him warily, her face still twisted with pain. "I am afraid both children of the Potters will be irreparably damaged. I need to know what you know. So…"_

_Suddenly he felt Tsukuyomi fading into blackness, along with his anger. Isabelle's face just faded away._

…..

"…Welcome to the Triwizard tournament!"

Harry's eyes opened, and he sat up with a start as he remembered. How had his illusion been thwarted? He looked to his side, and saw Hermione worriedly glancing at him.

"Harry, what happened? You glanced at that girl you called Isabelle, and you just fell unconscious. Dumbledore seemed to know something had happened to you, and told us to just leave you alone for a few minutes. Are you alright?" she asked frantically. Harry just nodded and looked at the Staff table towards Snape.

Snape seemed to know what he was asking, and nodded slightly towards Dumbledore. Harry kept his face calm, but rage shot up in him like a volcano. His encounter with Isabelle had been planned, then. He cursed himself for showing his power so soon. That was obviously why Isabelle had sought him out so blatantly.

_Dumbledore wants more information about Tsukuyomi, and he stunned me the moment he thought Isabelle was in danger. You got me again didn't you, old traitor?_

His eyes roved over the Ravenclaw table, and saw his sister, looking absolutely tired. She stared at him with an expression of regret, but his Sharingan could see the true regret and awe she concealed. He had been right, the meeting had been a setup. He had to be more careful after this.

_I will use Eternal Mangekyo only when my life is on the line. It will be my final trump card. What people know nothing of, people cannot counter. It seems like Tsukuyomi can be ended if I am rendered unconscious by an external source. _

He watched as Dumbledore rambled on about some Eternal glory of the tournament, and how they would be selected. He paid close attention to this part.

"The champions of each school are chosen by an impartial judge. The Goblet of fire!" The casket opened and the goblet spewed blue fire, igniting gloriously. Harry could observe the thing's magical aura, it was a powerful object.

"A champion who intends to enter will have to write their name and school upon a piece of parchment, and drop it into the goblet. The names chosen will be out of the Goblet in a week's time. Most importantly, I advise you to exercise caution when entering the tournament, as your choosing implies a binding magical contract that is not to be broken till the end of the tournament. Also I would advise no one under the age of sixteen to enter. This is for your own safety, as the tasks are designed for that age or above. I myself will be warding the Goblet against those below the age limit, and I would not advise trying an unscrupulous entry" he said in a light voice.

Harry just stared at the Goblet, his eternal Mangekyo picking out every flux and whorl in the magic of the thing. After a few days' research, he was sure he could enter his name somehow. He would _force_ the Goblet to pick him, even if he had to use Dark magic to do it.

Harry paid little attention to the rest of Dumbledore's rattling about the prize money and other irrelevant things. Money was the least of his concerns. He needed to test himself, and this tournament was the best way to do it.

"….let us retire for the night."

The scraping of benches began, and Harry just proceeded to his dormitory not looking at the regretful look his sister sent him, or the calculating one Dumbledore did.

_Another trip to the library is warranted. I need to read up on how to dismantle wards. Too bad I do not have Bill to show me…_

….

In an unplottable location in the countryside of France, lay concealed a magnificent manor of white marble. Its size was comparable to Hogwarts, as was its grandeur. But at night, it gave off a beauty and strength seldom found anywhere but at Hogwarts. Its white expanse shone like the skin of the very moon, and its solitary presence stood like a bulwark of the light against all darkness.

It turned out that this castle of splendour and prestige was indeed a fortress of the light, for it was at this spot history was made. Upon a tower that stood tall upon the battlements of the castle was carved in great detail the _Sharingan._

A tall man with long silky white hair and powerfully built body stood upon this very tower, and surveyed the rolling lawns wistfully as if remembering something. His face, though expressing a kind of nostalgic sorrow, was handsome. Fine features, an aquiline nose, and an aristocratic bearing all combined to make the man a rare specimen of the male species.

Muggles could not enter within ten kilometres of this castle. The castle was his, and was protected by extremely powerful concealment charms. Some charms were cast in languages long lost to this world.

_I am eternal and still I thrive, guiding our society through misery and pain, through pleasure and joy. Arcturus, my friend, you should never have entrusted this responsibility to me. I am so ill-suited for it…_

"Thoughts of past regrets haunting you, beloved?" came the melodious voice of a beautiful lady from behind the man. The lady was, if possible, even more beautiful. Her perfectly proportioned body was flawless, as was her heartbreakingly stunning oval face. A sheet of silvery-blonde hair gently shook in the blowing wind as she entered the tower her husband currently inhabited.

"No, Perenelle. We accepted our role in the eternal turning of the ages when Arcturus asked us to, and I was just wondering. It has been nearly a thousand years since Arcturus died, and we alone have endured. We alone know of the true sacrifices that have been made to keep humanity from just imploding to destruction. But I cannot expect our maturity from youngsters, I suppose…" he said softly.

Perenelle Flamel just went to her husband, and kissed him on his cheek. "Nicolas, you have guided many mages to greatness, and you will have no problems guiding him. He is Arcturus' descendant, after all. If he is anything like my brother, then he is the one we will need."

"That is not what worries me. It is Croaker's handling of the entire situation. We leave the department for ten years, and when we come back…they have taken drastic steps. Croaker may very well have damaged the boy's psyche irreparably. Not to mention Albus, or his own parents. I think we made a mistake in beating the importance of prophecies into their heads all those years. They now take those things at their word. I hear that young Snape has taken charge of Harry Potter. He will be exposed to the dark, now."

The two remained quiet, letting the tranquillity of the night wash over them. Somewhere in the vast meadows, a bird chirped once.

"Unfortunately, yes." came a strong voice from behind them. Albus Dumbledore strode into the tower room, his long hair rippling in the fierce wind. Nicholas and Perenelle turned to regard their old student, wearing mixed expressions.

"Albus. What other young boys have you condemned to Azkaban lately, hmm? " questioned Perenelle sardonically. Dumbledore sighed, and gestured with his hand, causing the nearly dark location to light up softly.

"Professors, it was necessary. The signs of divination and planets say that Voldemort will be back very soon, and we need his nemesis to be ready. You both had no information for us, so we went ahead on the best path available to us. Do not mock my conscience! Do you think I enjoyed doing all those things? Harry is like a grandson of mine!" said Dumbledore, sorrow and anguish in his voice.

Perenelle just quirked an eyebrow, while Nicholas remained silent, not even looking at Dumbledore. Perenelle walked to Nicholas, putting a hand on his shoulder and turned to Dumbledore.

"You, Gellert, and Croaker. Three of our best students. Only one of our disciples was better than the three of you, and he is long gone. For nearly a thousand years, we have watched the world and worked through prophecy. But we never allowed ourselves to forget the sanctity of life, nor did we get jaded…"

Dumbledore's sorrow was slowly increasing at these accusations. Perenelle continued sadly, ignoring his rising emotion.

"We took you in, taught you, and recruited you into the Department. After your…affairs…with Gellert ended, we saw your greatness and left the Department we had nurtured for three centuries in yours and Croaker's hands. But you, Albus. You forgot our teachings. We told you never to take any life for granted while fulfilling prophecy, we told you never to lose your heart and emotion. But you did. All for the greater good…" she finished in a monotone.

Dumbledore's face was twisted in shame and remorse. Nicholas turned to face Dumbledore at last, his face emotionless. Dumbledore could never get a read on the man, so powerful was his occlumency.

"You are no longer the Light lord. You have great power, but we fear that the Department is losing its humanity for your 'Greater Good'. It has moved away from its original ideals"

Perenelle spoke.

"We have to return, Albus. Nicholas will be the Light lord once more, and we will never again entrust our division to another so long as we are alive. You, who managed to turn parents against children, who stained the purity of our greatest hope…you taught us that. Tell Croaker to step down immediately. The High chairs of the Department of Mysteries will be filled by us forevermore."

Dumbledore nodded his head in assent, unable to defy his teachers. Croaker and he would have to step down immediately, then. If Nicholas and Perenelle took active charge, then the magical world would change faster than ever.

_Maybe I am unfit to lead the DoM. Maybe I have lost my ideals along the way. But the fact remains…I will do anything to save our world from the dark, from destruction._

_Anything._

….

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**I note your concern at the fact that Harry seems weak in this chapter. I believe that just getting Sharingan does not make you a master of it: eternal Mangekyo or otherwise. He is just now understanding the utter power in those eyes, and he is getting used to it. Casting Tsukuyomi is no easy task.**

**And he had to involve himself totally when he cast the Tsukuyomi on Isabelle. It is only his third time at it, and it takes considerable concentration. Dumbledore is a great Wizard, and it would be reasonable to assume that he can stealthily stun an individual who is involved in casting a complicated illusion at someone else.**

**To the review that said that Itachi was an ANBU captain at 13, and comparatively Harry is progressing slowly-understand that Itachi was training for combat all his life. Harry has gotten that drive just a short time ago. Isn't it unrealistic to expect him to reach the level of Itachi in so short a time? The level of a genius who trained from a very young age and gained mastery over Sharingan after years of work?**

**Please think of Harry's Tsukuyomi as versatile, not weak. His ability with Tsukuyomi is much finer than just casting someone into a world of pain. I will elaborate upon this as the story progresses.**

**THANK YOU FOR READING! your suggestions and criticisms WILL will be taken in the best spirit, and I will incorporate them as much as possible in the future.**

**Regards,**

**Karldin.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Dear readers,**

**Thank you. Thank you for bearing with my schedule and for reviewing positively. It really warms my heart when I receive such heartfelt encouragement. So thank you for your continued support!**

**Regards,**

**Karldin.**

CHAPTER 6

It was Monday evening, and the Gryffindor room's hearth housed a merry fire that lent warmth and comfort to those that shared it. The common room was crowded mostly by the higher year students, who were busily discussing the upcoming tournament.

The tournament seemed to the sole topic of conversation throughout the four houses. The novelty of foreign schools coming in only served to increase the students' fervour, introducing a sense of dangerous competition among the populace.

"Angelina, have you put in your name?" whispered Katie Bell. Harry shook his head slightly, and went back to his Arithmancy essay. He had taken very well to that subject. He had taken very well to every subject, really. Credit was due to the Sharingan, which actually allowed him to _see_ magic in all its glory. That granted him a deeper understanding of magic than was possible.

"Of course! Who wouldn't try to enter such a contest?" said Angelina dreamily, obviously thinking of the glory of the tournament. Alicia shook her head silently, as did Katie.

"Angelina, be serious. Do you actually believe that you can defeat the real competitors from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang? Viktor Krum is high in the duelling circuit, so is Fleur Delacour. Both were said to be trained by their Auror parents from a young age. Prodigies, they call them…"

Harry's ears perked up at this new information. He could see the Sixth years all getting drawn into the conversation. He didn't mind really, knowing nothing of wizarding life outside Hogwarts. A serious oversight, he now realized.

"It is said Krum uses…_the dark arts…"_ whispered Lee Jordan. Harry scoffed, there they went on again about dark and light. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Hermione coming up to sit beside him. She was paying attention to the conversation as well. She too looked sceptical at the notion of a teenager, however touted and talented using the true dark arts.

"Yeah, he does" said Katie quietly. Harry could see the apprehension in her face. She had to have actually seen Krum using Dark magic to have that kind of a reaction. Angelina leaned forward curiously.

"How do you know?" asked Angelina. The others leaned forward eagerly, waiting for the answer. Katie took a deep breath.

"I saw him. I saw him at last year's duelling finals…he fights _brutally_. No quarter, no fairness. No etiquette either. He just throws spells at his opponents, and they crumble painfully. And his spells are no joke either…he just keeps throwing cutting curses and Reductors, powerful ones…he's just too brutal" shivered Katie. Angelina looked a bit downtrodden.

Harry sighed. Of _course_ Krum was brutal, there was no gentle way to defeat an opponent.

"And did he win?" asked Alicia curiously. Katie shook her head, "No…no he didn't. He was disqualified for using the Entrail-expelling curse on his opponent." Harry saw Hermione grimace at the sound of that. She was too soft, she was. It seemed Krum was quite the dangerous young man, both with broom and wand.

It seemed Hermione could not stand it no longer. "Who was the opponent?" she asked, looking at the group curiously. Katie smirked at her, but the others leered. Harry was sorely tempted to just send them writhing to the ground with an illusion.

"Isabelle Snyder" answered Katie. "She is Beauxbatons' prodigy, her and Fleur Delacour both. She is a nice girl; I met her at last years' ministerial congregation. Supposedly absurdly talented at Runes, and equally talented at charms. She could beat Krum as well, she is dangerous."

Harry frowned. Renamed themselves _Snyder,_ had they? Good that they did not have the Potter name anymore, the hallowed blood of his ancestors was besmirched enough by their treachery.

"Why do you answer these filth, Katie? Potter is an embarrassment to our house, as is the buck-toothed little bitch. Consorting with _Snape_ of all people…" he shook his head sadly. Harry did not even look at him as he continued on with his work. The fool was not worth his retribution.

"Livingston, keep quiet…" said Angelina warningly. Hermione was wearing a blank face as usual, but Harry's Sharingan could pick up signs of her distress as clear as day. A small spark of anger began to free itself from his barred mind. Livingston seemed annoyed by the lack of response to his taunt.

"The Slytherins were right for once, you attention seeking brat. Gryffindor not enough for you, you had to go suck up to Slytherin to satisfy your urges? You and your _whore_…" Harry's Sharingan started spinning as he saw Hermione's distress at this. Hermione was all he had left, his one true friend. The only one he could possibly trust.

Livingston was frothing at his mouth, lost in his fury. The common room had gone quiet at this turn of events. A harmless chat had turned to…this?

"_Whore. Mudblood whore. You attention seeking little…" _snarled Livingston. Harry saw Hermione's anger erupt, and as if in slow motion, he saw Hermione draw her wand angrily and point at Livingston. "_Furnunculus!"_ she yelled, a jet of light hurtling towards her opponent as the common room gasped. Livingston easily blocked the curse and flicked his wand at Hermione who seemed stunned by his reaction time.

"_Protego Totalum" _said Harry, his eyes still upon his book. Livingston was fast, but not really fast enough to escape Sharingan. His arc of lightning was thrown right back at him, sending him crashing into the common room wall. Harry calmly got up, looking at the now spread-eagled Livingston who was convulsing like there was no tomorrow. Then he looked around at the common room, projecting his oppressive intent.

Everyone in the room shrank back, except for a few seventh years.

"If you dare attack without provocation, I will destroy you all. If you taunt for no reason, I will teach you pain. Come on, Hermione" he said to the now bewildered girl, leading her away lightly by her elbow. He closely observed his housemates staring at him with a mixture of intimidation, revulsion and fear.

_Oh, well. The days where I tried to please them are long gone. Too bad Livingston could not do the elemental spell properly; done right…it would have either punched through my shield or killed him when it rebounded._

He walked sedately down the stairs towards the library. He could somewhat understand the solace Hermione found in the place. No one to bother you, No one to irritate you…here it was just you, the books and what you could do with them.

"Harry, did Snape teach you that shielding spell?" asked Hermione curiously, her previous encounter's aftermath forgotten at the prospect of gaining new knowledge. Harry nodded as they walked towards their refuge.

"Yes. When cast by a strong practitioner of magic, that shield can absorb powerful elemental spells and can even help you avoid wide area detection spells. Very useful indeed…" here Harry paused, and watched Hermione who was watching him intently. Even without his eyes, he could see what she was thinking. Always the same…

"Do you want to learn it? I haven't perfected it myself, you know…" he offered. Hermione was a powerful witch, and pretty much the only one he would ever trust. It would not behove her to get lost in the irrelevant knowledge of the Hogwarts curriculum.

Hermione's eyes danced with pleasure as she threw herself onto Harry, giving him one of her bone-breaking hugs. Harry's eyes widened comically at this spontaneous gesture…he was still not used to Hermione's affections, even more so after Azkaban. Slowly, he raised his hand and hugged her to himself. Suddenly he could hear a hoarse voice panting in the distance.

_She will…betray us, _said the hoarse voice in his head. Harry's face scrunched up in confusion as he sagged, so penetrating was the voice in his head. Once more it came to him: _She will use us and betray us. The whippings, the tortures…no more…NO MORE! I'll KILL her…I'll kill them all!_

Hermione watched in concern as Harry shook his head slightly. Suddenly his face lifted, and his eyes opened. She could see some kind of wavering around his eyes, as if a heat wave were emanating out of them. She became even more alarmed as Harry's expression turned into one of murderous hate, regret, even more hate, fear…and then it turned back to his usual aloof expression.

"Harry, are you alright?" she asked in a concerned voice. She knew he wasn't, she knew all too well. The time at Azkaban had obviously had a deep effect upon Harry. Who knew what that monstrous place had done to him!

"I am fine, Hermione" he said, still shaking his head slightly. What was that voice? He was supposed to be in control of his mind. No matter what, he was not to lose it. _Never, ever, ever become a slave to your mind. You are its master. Always._

But it was futile. He had felt something wrong in himself ever since he came back from Azkaban, and he wondered if this was it. Voices in his head. Was he mad?

_Am I mad?_

His face froze as he heard a quiet chuckle in his voice, an insane sounding chuckle. Apprehension rose in him like bile as he considered many disturbing possibilities…most of which were unaffordable.

Hermione could not bear seeing him so confused and hurt, and in an attempt to distract him, asked him to show her how to create the shield he had used. Harry obliged, and the two of them strode off towards the empty classrooms, their library excursion forgotten.

…..

"Your visualization is wrong, Hermione. The shield is slightly concave in nature, not convex. Don't you remember the most natural shape of defensive shields? Vector taught us last week…" said Harry critically. Hermione ducked her head, looking sheepish.

It surprised her how much raw intelligence Harry had; he was as intelligent as her in a way. She had never thought to apply arithmantic theories to defense, not seriously anyway. She _had _fiddled a bit with spell modification, though it was said to be dangerous.

"Well, Harry…I didn't think to apply that here, you know? Vector said not to think of Defense spells in terms of Arithmancy till NEWTS. Said it was dangerous…" said Hermione. Harry frowned at this. Snape had him doing the opposite…he was required to understand the spell to its fundamentals before he used it.

"Was this in third year, Hermione?" Hermione nodded. "Well, Snape makes me break down every spell he teaches before casting it, he says it is essential to mastering that spell. Thinks he can make me learn the art of spell unravelling if…" he finished thoughtfully, watching Hermione as she stopped her practice and sat beside him.

"Harry…can I ask you something?" she said, face burning with curiosity. Harry sighed and nodded, knowing what she intended to ask. In fact he was thoroughly surprised that she had desisted from grilling him thoroughly on the subject.

"How did you…you know, de-Snapify Snape? He is even less caustic in class, targeting Gryffindors a lot less. I can't _believe _he took you on as an apprentice!" she exclaimed. Harry considered her carefully, wondering if to tell her the truth.

He moved to the empty space in the classroom, and beckoned Hermione to join him which she did. He raised his hand, pointing it at Hermione. Hermione seemed to understand, as she raised her wand in preparation.

"_Fulmen" _said Harry clearly, and a bolt of lightning blasted out of his palm towards Hermione. He saw Hermione wave her wand and incant the spell: "_Protego Totalum!" _The room flashed white as the lightning spell was deflected, and ricocheted everywhere destroying benches and punching holes in the walls.

Harry ran forwards, his Sharingan spinning as he saw the bolt headed towards him as if in slow motion. Sweeping his palm gracefully he caught the errant bolt of lightning in a perfect shield, dispersing it. He then looked at Hermione who looked really angry with herself.

"The first step is to disperse the spell, Hermione. Then deflect. You could have easily harmed yourself with that erroneous shield…" he gently reproached her. Hermione looked alarmed for some reason.

"I could have hurt you with that…" she whispered. Harry shook his head, always worrying about him she was. How horrified she was at her mistake did not escape his Sharingan.

"I was safe…I can cast the shielding spell concavely. You should strive for that as well, Hermione. Let's duel after you can make it properly concave, hmm?" said Harry, making for the door. "I'll just complete my DADA assignment as I watch you cast the shield, Hermione. You can proceed."

Hermione nodded and waved her wand in the prescribed pattern. "_Protego Totalum!" _ she said clearly, forcing the magic to take the required shape. Harry watched curiously with his Sharingan, trying to pick out any mistake she might be making. She was as determined and stubborn as he was, and that made his mouth twitch. Not to mention, she had an instinct for magic that rivalled his own.

"And to answer your question, Hermione…" Hermione looked up at him expectantly. She was still not used to a Harry Potter that kept his secrets close to his chest, not even confiding them to her. She and Harry had no secrets from each other before his…his imprisonment.

"The shattering of illusions is always painful, it changes you. It happened to Snape and to me. It will happen to you as well…but not for a long time" said Harry sadly as he went back to his assignment, leaving Hermione to stare at him with surprise before she went back to perfecting her shield.

…

Isabelle Potter, known to the world as Isabelle Snyder, walked down the corridor purposefully. She had received Albus' summons a few minutes ago by phoenix, and it was reportedly urgent.

Her beautiful blonde hair shone in the torchlight as she walked through the perfect stone corridors of Hogwarts towards the Headmaster's office. The Gargoyle stood stationary as always, concealing the entrance to her destination.

"_Sharingan"_ she whispered, and the Gargoyle granted her entrance. As she stood on the revolving staircase, she pondered. Could she truly stop Harry from going Dark? Harry's ability with magic was increasing at an alarming rate, even higher than the rate at which she was growing or even Dumbledore grew in their formative years. Severus Snape was clearly doing his best to turn her brother into….she did not know what her brother was turning into. All she knew was that with those eyes of his, there really was no limit to his potential.

The tournament was just around the corner, and she knew her brother would be involved somehow. The major players of the Wizarding world would never let such an important piece roam free of them. _And_ she knew that the Department wanted to see the Sharingan in action, those eyes were not used in open battle for centuries. She herself was all too curious about them.

Not that her experience with Harry's _Tsukuyomi_ deterred her. Indeed, it more than fascinated her…the feel of that illusion was even more convincing than the real world. It was unbreakable…she was sure of it. She strode into Dumbledore's office as the door opened unassisted.

"Thank you for coming Isabelle, Please. Sit." Invited Dumbledore graciously. Isabelle looked at him, noting his tired eyes and his general attitude of occupation. "How are things with Harry, Isabelle? Have you been watching him?"

Isabelle nodded. She was sure Harry was not adept enough to distinguish runes drawn on him, those runes allowed her to eavesdrop upon him. That was another purpose of her meeting him during the opening ceremony of the tournament, to begin keeping tabs on him. It was revolting to have to spy on her own brother, but she would not deal with him until she had a full catalogue of his mental state. It would be disastrous if she unknowingly blundered into Harry's life and threw him into even more confusion.

"So…what is Severus teaching him? Is he learning forbidden spells?" questioned Dumbledore curiously. Isabelle's eyes narrowed at this question.

"No, Albus. He is teaching him nothing forbidden…but fear not. My brother will become powerful…maybe even enough to defeat you, for that matter. And before you ask, I will reveal nothing of what he is actually being taught. Harry obviously wants the content of these sessions to be secret, and I will honour that. As you have asked me, I will alert you if he learns the Dark arts too deeply" she finished firmly. Dumbledore sighed, and fished out a letter from one of his many robe pockets.

"This is for you, Isabelle. Professor Flamel sent it to you; the structure of the department is being changed. I am no longer at the top. The Flamels are coming back, and they intend to change the department to what it once was" said Dumbledore, a slight tinge of bitterness to his voice. Isabelle said nothing, taking the letter from him. She broke the seal and carefully unfolded the letter to read its precious contents.

_Isabelle,_

_Albus is no longer in charge, nor is Croaker. The two of us will reoccupy the high chairs of the Department of Mysteries, but we will act from the Shadows. The Dark is moving and if we act openly, we might accelerate its approach. No…we must get ready for the coming storm clandestinely._

_To the world, Albus and Croaker will be in charge…but we will head the Department in truth. _

_Elliot has divined the future, and he is certain that Voldemort will be back no matter our actions to delay or stop it. Mars is bright, he says…and Mars has always been the harbinger of war. The second War is coming, and its devastation will be even larger than the first._

_The Department will stand against the Dark, as it always has. For now, your job will be to help Harry Potter to prepare for what will come. Do not deceive him, do not force him. Any help given or received has to be voluntary and un-coerced._

_Good Luck._

_Sincerely,_

_Nicholas Flamel._

Isabelle smiled at this, folding the letter and looking at Albus. She could not say this was unexpected, sooner or later the founders of the department would notice the flaws in its running.

"I don't report to you anymore, Albus. Professor Flamel has the right of things this time, you know. I now have the freedom to deal with my brother the way I wish. Do not call me to your office anymore, please" said Isabelle as she stood to leave.

Dumbledore stood as well, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Isabelle Potter. The young woman was too talented to alienate, he would have loved to have her succour in his endeavours. But it was not to be.

"I could use your help in guiding Harry, Isabelle. You would be a great asset in turning him fully back into the light. But go your own way if you must...I cannot stop you."

Isabelle turned around , slowly drawing her wand in the process. Her face gave away nothing, but her eyes sparkled with anger as she stared at Dumbledore who sat impassively. Not more than two years ago, she was fascinated with the man's powers, and held him in great respect. But no more. She respected his power still, but not his way of accomplishing the goals of the department. He was basically a well-intentioned dictator.

"I am with the department, not on my own way. And if you think you can keep me away from Harry..." here her wand tip glowed white. Albus only stared at her, not moving an inch.

"My oaths to you no longer bind me, Dumbledore. I am sworn only to the heads of the DoM, and you are no longer that. I am now given free rein in helping my brother, something you should have done a long time ago. But you used the oaths I had taken and kept me from contacting him!"

"It was for the greater good..." murmured Albus. Isabelle flicked her wand, and a whip of white fire slashed at Dumbledore who caught it in a single hand and crushed it into oblivion. A second later, Isabelle was disarmed and frozen.

"I am sorry I made your family into what it is today, it is my fault. But do not attack me again please, it can be construed into something else entirely" he waved his hand and Isabelle was unfrozen with her wand again in her hand.

"Goodbye Albus. We have nothing to say to each other anymore. I regret the day I swore allegiance to you" she said, and strode out of the office. Haunting notes of phoenix song followed her, mourning the loss of a precious bond. Isabelle smiled in satisfaction as she strode briskly towards the Beauxbatons carriage, she was now free to reunite their family with no Albus looming over them.

She had no illusions about how easy it would be, she was directly involved in what happened to Harry; One might even say she was the cause. But there was no way she would cut her bonds with her little brother, she would cruciate herself before doing that.

_I am coming, brother. You wont be alone anymore...never again will Dumbledore interfere in our family. The Flamels will see to that._

...

"Harry...I'm really sorry, but I see no use in learning such a difficult shield for a lightning spell such as this one. I can easily parry it, or perhaps stop it with an elementary conjuration...Livingston's spell was not that powerful after all, it only made him convulse a bit when you threw it back at him!" exclaimed Hermione, departing from her usual work ethic of hammering away at a spell till she had it down pat. Harry could well imagine the difficulty she had in learning the spell; it required considerable talent to shape the shield perfectly to catch the bolt.

Truth be told, he was quite impressed with her progress.

"Do you actually believe that was the true power of lightning, Hermione? It is not something that can be stopped so easily!" he said. Hermione shook her head quizzically, not understanding what he was trying to get at. Harry took her hand and walked briskly out of the classroom, not stopping for a second.

"Where are we going, Harry?" asked Hermione, alarmed at Harry's urgency. Harry did not answer her till they were quite a few levels below...somewhere near the dungeons.

"To Snape...I need to show you something, and it requires a possession of his. It will show you how lightning is to be truly used, what will happen if you let loose the most destructive force on earth. Brace yourself" he said calmly, and pushed his way into the Potions master's office. Hermione involuntarily flinched as she saw the Potions master brooding over a desk, his long hair framing his sallow face as he cast magic over a concoction that looked very intricate.

"I need your pensieve, Professor", interrupted Harry despite Hermione fearfully elbowing him in his ribs. Without even looking at them, Snape waved his wand causing a basin to float out of his cupboard causing Harry to catch it with both hands. Harry inclined his head in thanks, and walked right back out of the dungeons with Hermione in tow.

_Did that actually happen? Did Snape actually give his possession freely to Harry of all people? God…_ thought Hermione as she followed Harry out into the grounds, which were curiously empty. But maybe that was because it was a Sunday; relaxation was so very hard to come by these months. Assignments were hectic, and the complexities of the courses were shooting to the sky.

They stopped beneath their favourite tree as Harry raised his hand and cast the Privacy charm he had cast in the train, causing the air to grow still. With a smooth move, he set the pensieve on the ground and extracted with two fingers a silvery thread from his temple.

"What is that?" questioned Hermione, looking inquisitively at the silvery thread that floated gently into the Pensieve. "A memory which is given physical form by a spell…a simple one really. The pensieve helps project the memory information captured in the thread directly into our perceptions. Lean over and look into the basin carefully"

They leaned to look into the pensieve, beginning to see the stirrings of visions in its depths.

_They were in a scene of nightmare, it was blood and death everywhere in this memory._

_A large cliff overlooked a plain, with the setting sun casting shadows of doom upon it. The plain was littered with countless soldiers, living and dead. Soldiers…no Knights in silver Armor fought against opponents in Black, both yielding no quarter. The sounds of death permeated the air everywhere in the plain as did the circling of ravens and the clashing of weapons._

_Right in the middle of the massive battle was a handsome and well-built man in Silver Armour, fighting multiple opponents at once._ _His sword rose and fell gracefully taking the lives of his opponents swiftly, not a single movement was wasted. He moved like a snake, parrying each strike at him smoothly and dealing swift and deadly blows in return._

_"FOR THE LOVE OF CAMELOT!" he roared, and led the charge of his knights through the opposing army, cleaving through them like a hot knife through butter._

_But one thing caused Hermione to gasp in surprise, having led her to identify the man who led the charge. The inscription upon his raised sword as he cut through his enemies:_

_EXCALIBUR._

_King Arthur! This was the battle of Camlann, most likely. Hermione felt awe run through her in overpowering waves…HOW in the world was she allowed to see this? How did Harry procure this memory of all things…?_

_Harry gestured to her, asking her to watch carefully. Hermione did just that, not wanting to miss a single moment of this legendary battle. _

_Arthur's Knights were suddenly overwhelmed on all sides, causing the King to stand alone against Saxons on all sides. There was no escape, no alternative…they watched with trepidation as the Once and Future king raised Excalibur in defiance and charged with intent of breaking through his encirclement._

_It seemed as if Arthur had lost, seemingly buried in the endless charge of Saxons…until blinding white light filled the entire plateau, followed by a tremendous explosion all around the King. _

_Hermione stared with awe as she saw what was a huge fork of lightning descending from the cliff, as if spat out by the heavens themselves. The Saxons stood no chance, none at all. They were simply killed, thrown around everywhere in their dozens. King Arthur was safe for now, but the Saxons certainly were not…for upon the cliff Hermione spied a figure in red robes holding up a white staff towards the armies. Absolute amazement bloomed in her heart as she began to deduce the identity of the old man who had unleashed the lightning._

_"EMRYS!" came a woman's yell, filled with raw pain and anger. Filled with rage beyond belief. Hermione's heart gave another lurch as she beheld a woman beautiful beyond compare…but her beauty marred by some undefinable darkness._

_Morgana. _

_Hermione watched with disbelieving fascination as Myrddin Emrys faced Morgana Pendragon calmly and raised his pristine white staff. Lightning roared towards Morgana like the very crack of doom, hurling her forcefully into the rocks behind her, the witch's formidable magic only serving to stop her from being burnt into a crisp._

_Hermione and Harry watched the memories of ages past…they watched as Merlin unleashed hundreds of forks of Lightning towards the Saxon army, each fork killing dozens of the usurpers. There was no stopping him, not after Morgana lay defeated. With lightning alone Merlin routed the Saxon army of thousands singlehandedly from the lands of Albion…no one could stand in the face of his power._

They were suddenly spat back into the grounds of Hogwarts. Harry watched closely as Hermione slowly began to process the full import of what she had seen. He himself had not believed it when Snape had shown him this memory; Watching Merlin himself unleash lightning was an unreal experience for anyone…but even more so for someone like Hermione who was truly fascinated with the History of Magic.

Harry waited for a few moments, allowing Hermione to absorb what she had seen and then began to speak: "That is how Lightning is to be truly wielded, Hermione. Any force of Nature could become absolute in the hands of Merlin. Believe it or not, Snape told me Merlin had not fully tapped into his potential in the Battle of Camlann. But you saw the extent of his power…"

Harry saw the same desire he felt bloom in Hermione's eyes. It was the desire to excel in the magical arts…to become the best one could possibly be. It was the desire to push the very boundaries of magic's possibilities…it was the desire to know all magic and use all magic.

Hermione was very dedicated to knowledge, thought Harry. But she thought little of the consequences of such knowledge. The power that she would have because of such abilities, power that could change the world.

Harry smirked as he saw Hermione run towards their classroom without even looking at him. This was the sole purpose for him showing her memories of Merlin's magic, she just needed a little nudge to fall in with his goals and desires. No one as ambitious and intelligent as Hermione could remain unaffected after seeing Emrys himself use magic to tear down his enemies. Not when magic ran strongly in her blood, much more than the frivolous students who wasted their time at Hogwarts.

Harry had no doubt that Hermione could appreciate him a lot better now, the same desire to _understand_ ran through their blood strongly. He strode sedately towards the classroom with satisfaction.

At the rate he was learning there was really no telling what he would be able to accomplish. And with Hermione by his side through and through…

…...

Harry proceeded towards the Great Hall along with Hermione, who seemed to be just as preoccupied as he was and with good reason. It was time for dinner…and more importantly it was the night when the Goblet would decide the Champions of each school.

He had long since decided that trying to outwit the Protective wards around the Goblet was well beyond his abilities, Sharingan or no. Any tampering had to be done when the Goblet was most vulnerable, that is, when it was about to judge. Dumbledore would not dare put up wards then, for it would interfere with the magic of the Goblet.

He sat calmly in the Gryffindor table, Hermione diligently learning the Arithmancy behind the _Fulmen_ spell. Harry's Sharingan roved around the assembled schools, noting the way Durmstrang students involuntarily clustered around Viktor Krum. The magic flowing through the overly famous Quidditch player was not inconsiderable, in fact Harry was sure that Krum would be a very serious opponent. He reluctantly looked at Isabelle who was chatting animatedly with Fleur Delacour, glancing at him occasionally. The very sight of her stoked his anger, but he managed to control himself with magic he would do today would be very complex…he did _not_ want stray emotions to mess it up.

The Gryffindors seemed to have reached a decision, and were mostly ignoring him and Hermione. They had obviously not forgotten how easily Harry had thrown back the lightning at Livingston; they knew it was unheard of for a fourth year to be able to repel pure elemental spells. That was at least NEWT level. Harry was very much fine with the silence, it was better than provocation which was not conducive for learning.

Ravenclaw was neutral as usual, unlike Hufflepuff that was totally against Harry. Slytherin was a thorn in his side no matter what. He had stopped concerning himself with the houses, no matter which. They were all insignificant anyway.

"Hermione, I will be trying to work on a project of mine. Please do not interrupt me for till dinner is over" requested Harry. He watched as Dumbledore, Karkaroff and Maxime seated themselves and signalled their students to begin the feast, but not before Bartemius Crouch was introduced along with Ludo Bagman. They were apparently the representatives of the Ministry of magic.

"_Duplicare Sui"_ whispered Harry, casting an illusion. To all the students in the hall, it would appear as if Harry was eating his food normally. People like Dumbledore would not be under the Illusion, and would see him staring at the Goblet. Slightly suspicious, but it was a risk to be taken. The only reason why he bothered with the illusion was to avoid student interruptions.

The anticipation was thick in the air, and no one was really eating very much. Harry ignored his food completely, instead focusing his Sharingan upon the Goblet trying to understand the threads of magic that emanated from it.

_This will be very hard to accomplish. The Goblet itself is a very powerful magical object, and trying to bend its magic requires precision. If it were not for my Sharingan…_

Harry totally shut out the chattering noises of his housemates and the rest of the school as he channelled magic through the Sharingan, influencing the Goblet slowly. He could see the threads of the Goblet twisting around as he wanted them to. Beads of sweat began to form on his face as he tried to influence the choice the Goblet was to make.

_This is hard, _thought Harry as he bent another thread of magic. _I had to construct an arithmantic prediction of the goblet's magic, and visualize the desired shape for it to choose me. The timing should be perfect for my final spell._

Through the dinner, Harry slowly tried to bend the Goblet to his will. It was like trying to capture an eel with oiled hands…he would be lost without the Sharingan. He saw Dumbledore glance towards him periodically, as did Isabelle. Those two might have an inkling of what was happening with him, but no one else. They could not accuse him anyway…not now at this juncture.

Dessert was done with, and Harry noticed Dumbledore rise up and dim the lights with a wave of his hand. He worked frantically, trying to tame the Goblet.

"It is time. It is time for the Schools to have their champions. Please proceed to this door", he pointed to a door behind him, "when your name is called. So without further ado…"

The silence was so thick that you could cut it. Harry's magic roared as he forced each aspect of the Goblet's magic into its desired shape, so that he could cast a spell that would force it to choose him. He was not even halfway through the process…this would be a little too close.

The Goblet shone blue and its fire roared, spitting out a piece of parchment that was caught by Dumbledore. Dumbledore carefully read it, and proclaimed:

"The Champion for Durmstrang is…Viktor Krum!"

Durmstrang roared with applause, followed by cheering of the other schools. Harry saw Karkaroff bellowing his appreciation. Krum walked to the door Dumbledore indicated and entered it. The hall grew quiet again, waiting for the next name.

"The champion for Beauxbatons is…Fleur Delacour!" said Dumbledore happily, to the applause of the Beauxbatons delegation. Harry saw Isabelle applauding calmly, unlike her mates who were crying tears of jealousy. She had obviously not put in her name.

_I am out of time. The magic of the Goblet is far stronger than I anticipated…Circe's power is still strong after so many centuries. I need more…_

His eyes morphed into the Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan, the magic of the Goblet appearing to him in unbelievable detail. He had to do this fast…the illusion hiding his eyes would crumble under the magic he was radiating.

"The Hogwarts Champion…" said Dumbledore dramatically. Harry wove magic with his eternal eyes, managing to override the Goblet's magic for just a few moments. He incanted a non-verbal spell with all his might:

_Tolle mea essentia mihi sumo._

The flames roared out of the Goblet and Dumbledore caught it. His eyes widened in alarm as he read the name on the paper.

"Harry Potter!"

Harry smiled tiredly in relief…that was too close for comfort. It irked him that he had to spend so much effort to override a centuries-old spell for just a few moments…that too _with _the Sharingan.

Hermione was staring at him with an absolutely scared face. Everyone else was staring at him with derision and hatred. Isabelle was staring at him with resignation, as if she expected something like this to happen.

"Don't worry, Hermione…" he muttered, laying a hand on hers. She seemed to collect herself, but he still saw the fear she concealed from everyone else. Sharingan saw it clear as day. _Laetor, _he thought watching as Hermione relaxed by virtue of his mild cheering charm.

"Harry, up here if you please!" said Dumbledore sternly. Harry slowly walked up to the dais, noting the strong disapproval from all the teachers, especially McGonagall. He looked to Snape and saw his Professor smirking faintly. With a last look at the scowling sea of students, he stepped into the antechamber behind the dais.

It was quite ornate…and seated upon two chairs were the two champions so far chosen. Harry walked calmly towards third chair and sat himself, taking in the outraged reactions of his fellow champions.

"Do zey want us for something?" Fleur asked condescendingly. Krum shot him a dismissive look and went right back to his brooding. Harry stared at the extraordinarily beautiful Veela, and replied: "Not that I know of"

Abruptly they heard a massive roar of outrage in the Great Hall beyond, and Harry had to assume something major had happened, something more than the turmoil he had caused. He was proved right when the doors opened, letting in the heads of the various schools along with Bagman and Crouch.

They were accompanied by a girl whom Harry did not care for in the slightest. Sharingan eyes registered the absolute surprise she felt as Bagman announced something totally improbable.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, as impossible as it may seem…I introduce to you Isabelle Snyder, the _fourth_ Triwizard Champion!"

…...

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Dear readers, I see that some of you are of the opinion that Harry is a little too incompetent. Yes, at the moment he really is...when you compare him to the greatest of Wizards. For a fourteen year old Hogwarts student, someone who basically neglected his studies till now, I would say he is extremely powerful.**

**Do not worry, he will start gaining power soon enough. I would imagine the learning curve of the Sharingan in the following way: Till you master it you learn significantly faster than the others...but when the mastery happens the rate of learning will be comparable to the greatest Prodigy.**

**The complaint about runes is a valid one. Indeed, Harry was unable to see the runes because he was not looking for them. Do remember that these runes were drawn by someone who is really talented at it. Harry's studies have not yet extended to Runes...and not to an extent where he is aware of such advanced uses. Not yet.**

**I like critical reviewers like you all, those who point out plot defects and flaws...you really do help me improve. Thank you for avoiding flaming and pointing out the true flaws.**

**As a writer..I couldn't ask for more from my reviewers. Thank you.**

**Regards,**

**Karldin.**


	7. Chapter 7

**My apologies for the wait. Had to plan out the plot properly before I started dishing out chapters. And many thanks for your positive feedback to my story, it means a lot to me. Please continue doing so, for the sake of an aspiring author.**

**It makes my day.**

**Regards,**

**Karldin.**

CHAPTER 7

"We have no part in zis…zis aberration. Isabelle is not so dishonourable as to enter zis tournament in such a way. I demand zat you withdraw your outrageous accusations against my student!" snarled Madame Maxime, glaring at all the assembled teachers and officials. Krum was also staring hard at Isabelle, but the blonde haired beauty did not look at anyone but Harry.

Harry himself stared straight back at his estranged sister, evaluating and considering. There was no reason for her to simply enter the tournament to keep an eye on him. She could do that much better without the constraints of the tournament, really. That could mean one of two things: She either had another reason, or she was being forced to enter. Either way, this worked to his advantage; one way or another he would test his Sharingan against the best competition around.

"Well, and …how do you propose we handle this predicament? Beauxbatons will get two bites of the apple and that is most unfair! This is not to mention an underage wizard of Hogwarts forcing his way into the competition…Dumbledore can't keep his students in line. Durmstrang is truly undermined in this competition; we will not be participating in the next!"

Harry watched the man in contempt; he was obviously an opportunist of the worst kind. He watched as Bagman stepped up to answer, but his attention was focused solely on Crouch. His magic seemed weaker than before, than when he had seen it in the forest of the world cup. Sharingan picked up a trace of _wrongness _in the man's magic…Harry wondered. This anomaly was not something he could identify right away, it was too subtle.

"Karkaroff, the goblet does not reignite till the next tournament so that avenue is closed to us. I am afraid that the rules are clear: those chosen by the goblet are to compete. No exceptions, right Barty?" asked Ludo.

"The rules are clear" said Crouch listlessly, drawing Harry's attention once more. Dumbledore spoke up for the first time, looking at Harry.

"Harry, did you enter the tournament despite the rules we have enforced?"

Harry snorted. "Yes I entered the tournament. No one has more right to be there than me, I fooled both the Goblet and you lot. That should speak enough about my talent, I believe."

"Ze arrogance of ze boy is astounding!" exclaimed Maxime. Harry did not even look at her, instead studiously examining his wand. Though Maxime was formidable, she was not worthy of his notice. She was not a force to be reckoned with. He saw Fleur glaring at him, and Isabelle staring at him blankly. Krum was looking at him with a faint hint of respect.

"I believe, Madam, that you should look to your own faults before you point at my apprentice. Your student is not exactly the paragon of virtuous play here, is she?" asked Snape sarcastically. Maxime's hand slowly inched toward her wand, as did Snape's. Harry knew that would be quite a close duel, but he knew Snape held the slight advantage. Sharingan told him so.

"Enough!" said Dumbledore firmly, diverting attention towards him. "We will resolve the issues of entry later. It is clear nothing can be done now, not once the contract is initiated. Now, please…let us get to the purpose of this meeting. Barty?"

"Ah, yes. The tournament will be comprised of three tasks: The first is designed to test your daring and thinking in the face of imminent danger. It will happen in exactly three weeks' time from now. Please ready yourselves as necessary. That is all", he said and left the room abruptly. Karkaroff and Krum followed suit, both of them turning on their heel to storm off towards their ships.

"Harry, I want you to stay behind. I wish to speak with you privately" said Dumbledore as Fleur and Isabelle left, the latter giving Harry one last searching look before leaving with her friend and headmistress. Harry's eyes immediately morphed to the eternal Mangekyo, ready to take Dumbledore down at a moment's notice.

"What is it you want, Headmaster? I will guide my apprentice as I deem fit. I am sure you have nothing worthwhile to say to him" said Snape silkily. Dumbledore steeped his fingers, staring right into Harry's eyes. Dumbledore's bright blue eyes that had often made him feel as if he were being X-rayed, made him feel nothing now.

"Do you think your Legilimency can work against these eyes, Dumbledore? I will drown you if you delve too deep in my mind, old man. It is done, I am in the tournament. There is nothing you can do to change it" said Harry, keeping magic ready. Dumbledore sighed, looking away.

"You should not have forced your way in, Harry. I do not see why you fail to see now what you have seen all along. When you faced the Basilisk, you sacrificed yourself for us. Same with the Philosopher's Stone! It saddens me to see your nobility lost so easily, Harry."

Harry looked at Snape, who nodded. Together the two of them made their way outside the chamber, not caring what Dumbledore said. But Harry heard, all right.

"You will learn what a mistake you have made tonight, Harry. I will teach you…be very ready for the tasks."

…..

"Well done, Potter. Well done indeed. Your analysis of the Goblet's vulnerability was impeccable and what I would expect of an apprentice of mine. But still, you face serious opponents. We will have to intensify your training; your Sharingan must be your last resort. We cannot have you becoming too dependent on those eyes of yours, now can we?" asked Snape.

They walked down the torch lit corridors of Hogwarts side by side by side, master and apprentice. Harry could not help but wonder about Dumbledore, the old man did not really try very hard to keep him out of the tournament.

_Webs of intrigue everywhere, not caring what or who they ensnare. My Sharingan cannot see through everything, and I must be careful. The DoM, Dumbledore, my 'parents' and if the prophecies are right, Voldemort._

"Alright, Professor. Do I continue my studies on the apparition theories?" asked Harry, weaving a privacy spell with a single thought. With so many parties interested in him, and not benevolently, he took precautions where he could. Snape's expression turned into one of deep thought.

"I believe…I believe those studies can take a backseat as of now, . The Triwizard Tournament is no laughing matter, though you have done a laudable job of getting yourself in. You need instruction for the coming tasks; for you can be sure there will be some sort of conflict involved. The knowledge you have imbibed through the books I recommended should see you through anything else. What do you think is the most powerful type of magic?"

Harry thought deeply. It was reasonable to assume that the most powerful wizards used such magics, and in this era it was either Dumbledore or Voldemort. The two towering giants of wizardry of the time.

Dumbledore was a master of Transfiguration, and Voldemort's knowledge of the Dark Arts was second to none. Which was superior? The answer came to him naturally. It was obvious, the Dark Arts used dark magic as a weapon, but Transfiguration used the world itself as a weapon.

"Transfiguration. It is fluid in both attack and defence, and is extremely versatile. In my opinion Transfiguration is the superior type"

Snape smirked. "Yes. Transfiguration is superior, there is no doubt. But in such duels as the Dark Lord against Dumbledore, it comes down to speed and creativity rather than power and potency. They are very near equal when it comes to magical power, with the Dark Lord holding the edge. To fight opponents such as them, you need imagination. You need extremely fast reflexes and perception…and in those areas you can far outstrip anyone."

"Sharingan", nodded Harry. Snape continued at this. "Thus your strength lies in your Sharingan, which you will train with my help from now onwards. That is your advantage in this tournament. The apprentice bond supersedes the goblet contract, thus I will be able to help you in all ways. I trust you won't need it?"

"I won't. But I will continue my training regardless of any tournament, Professor" said Harry. Snape nodded with appreciation, and walked off briskly towards the dungeons after bidding him goodnight.

Harry walked towards Gryffindor tower, thinking about his studies. Even though it had been barely more than a month, his learning with Snape had been beneficial in the extreme. Even if his fellow champions were excellent wizards, he was sure they were not trained by someone of Snape's calibre. In his regular classes, Harry had to try very little. Charms were easy, as was Transfiguration. His Sharingan aided in everything, even reading other people without Legilimency. He was slowly improving at interpreting magic that he could see with his eyes, and his enormous magic was growing more flexible and fluid.

But he took care to not abandon his wand work; he might need it any day.

"Hello, brother. Can we talk for a bit?"

Harry stopped dead, turning around slowly. How had she managed to follow him without detection? Isabelle slowly walked toward him, looking for all the world like a concerned sister. His Sharingan observed her minutely, recording her details both magical and physical. With a huge effort he managed to restrain himself from throwing spells, very painful spells.

"You are surprised because there was no disturbance in the magic around you, right?" she asked. Harry did not answer, instead analysing how the magic in the school reacted to her presence. It would be very important later as it was something that could be used against her.

"There are ways to still the disturbances you create, you know. Snape has not taught you that yet, I suppose? Well, that is for later. But for now…" she drew her wand and waved it in half a circle. Harry noticed what were obviously the effects of a disillusionment fall over them.

He zeroed in on her wand, and noticed the calmness and an odd kind of solemnity it introduced upon the surrounding magic. The wood was obviously a combination of holly and birch, he could tell that much with a glance. For the first time, he closely examined his sister. She wore the standard Beauxbatons' robes, blue and white and he could admit that she did cut a very striking figure.

Isabelle had also gone silent and was observing Harry in return. This was the very first time the two of them were able to converse with each other in relative privacy. Harry too drew his wand and layered his own privacy charm over hers. This was one conversation he did not want the entire school to speculate about.

"You can dispense with the wand, Harry. I know you are better without it" said Isabelle, her eyes shining with emotion as she let her facial control fade to finally reveal her full feelings. Tears slowly ran down her face as she beheld the brother she was separated from for so many years.

"I will do as I wish, Snyder. I was relieved to hear that you have renamed yourselves…I was afraid I would have to remove a stain from the Potter line and that would mean killing family. But I have no problems killing _Snyders_…" said Harry with cold amusement.

"We are still your family, Harry. Blood is more important than some name, you know. Names are less powerful than blood in the magical arts. Our parents made a terrible mistake with you, Harry, and you can hate them for it if you so wish. But do not endanger our cause with your hatred of us, brother. Lives depend on it" pleaded Isabelle.

Harry laughed. And it was not filled with the pleasure of reunion. One might say it was filled with quite the opposite.

"So…my life still does not matter to you, hmm? All the other lives that _may_ be lost if I go against 'our' cause trouble you this much, I see. Always the same, aren't you. Always willing to throw me away for some obscure goal…when the time comes, _sister_…I will take great pleasure in _tearing_ your lives from your bodies. You and those so-called parents of mine. For now, _stay out of my way._ You are not a priority anymore for me" snarled Harry as he gazed upon the rapidly whitening visage of his sister.

"No, no! Harry, you have it all wrong! I am trying to make the best of a situation both of us had no power to change! Our cause-"

"Your cause? Your cause? Are you from the Department of Mysteries, Isabelle?" said Harry in an ice cold voice. "Is this the secret which you hid in your mind? Is this how you were responsible for my pain?"

Harry's tightly leashed anger was running free again, and his magic was boiling. Memories of his torture at Azkaban filled his head...the feeling of pain not so long past still made him shiver.

"Harry, no. Are you alright?" asked Isabelle, slowly coming forward.

_Tear her apart. Fill her head with worms of madness…It was all her fault! Her fault! Our eyes see it all…that traitorous BITCH! I WILL KILL HER!_

Harry held his head tightly, sinking down to his knees. The voice only he could hear was yelling again, full of pure rage and straining with madness. He violently gripped Isabelle's soft hand upon his forehead and with a manoeuvre he had learnt during his torture, he broke her arm with a sharp twist and blasted her back with a disarming charm.

He stared at the prone form of his sister, her face white with agony and eyes shining with tears she refused to shed. Insane anger gripped him once more and he raised his wand. "_Traitor"_ he hissed. Isabelle lay on the ground bereft of her wand, and with her wand arm broken. She slowly raised her face to meet Harry's and whispered words through the pain:

"_Fouet à la force!"_

Though he clearly saw magic twisting into shape, he could do nothing to stop the whip of force that slashed him across his chest and threw him back painfully. Stars bloomed in his vision as the pain overtook everything for a moment.

As his vision cleared, he saw Isabelle summon her wand back into her hand and heal herself. His chest throbbed painfully as he got up, and cold rage flooded his mind as he looked at Isabelle staring back at him sadly.

This time, he could understand the essence of the simple spell thrown at him and he could actually add words to the raw magical manipulation. Sharingan could perceive the simple twists of magic completely, and he could visualize the spell fully.

"_Flagellum vi!"_

Isabelle easily blocked the spell with a simple swish of her wand. "I have been training for years, Harry, and not for duelling. I am a fully qualified department operative, Brother, and the youngest in this century. Don't refuse my help because of your pride and our past. I can help you reach your full potential"

_I am not fast enough. I could see her spell quite clearly, but my body could not react in time. I lack physical conditioning_, he thought in frustration. With a great effort, he shelved the boiling emotions and walked away calmly.

"We will speak again, Harry. I won't give you up so easily, not again. Never again" said Isabelle with resolve, watching as Harry walked away from her. She was not here to be a nuisance, only to plant certain thoughts in the mind of her little brother.

_He has enormous self-control for a tortured fourteen year old, _thought Isabelle with pride. Indeed, she had expected to force Harry to listen to her by subduing him in a duel. But he had surprised her yet again by not forcing a real fight.

_This restraint of his surging emotions makes him a lot more dangerous than loose cannon. Hard to be manipulated. I could see it in his eyes, they saw everything I did._

Nevertheless, she had achieved what she had come here to do. Harry would now concentrate on the physical aspect as well, strengthening his instincts even more. It was her duty to help her little brother, even if he did not want to be helped by her.

…..

James Potter sat in front of his desk, his head in his hands. For all the pretence he made at being a perfect agent of the Department of Mysteries, he was anxious about how his two children got along. Isabelle was always a likable little girl, and now she had become a charming and beautiful young woman. Normally he would say Harry would forget and be close with Isabelle once again.

But their Harry was no longer normal. He still shivered when he remembered the look in his son's eyes after his imprisonment. It was neither empty, nor was it full of vengeance. No, his son had become cold and calculating with tightly leashed rage driving his actions.

He had no doubt everyone was thinking the same thing as him: In creating a wizard to destroy Voldemort, they had possibly created something even worse. It tore his heart that he had to consign his own son to such a fate…but there was no other choice. They were all driven and not just by prophecy or by superiors.

"All this thinking doesn't suit you, Jamesie" said Sirius Black, apparating behind his long-time friend. James turned to him, not feeling any better about the situation. Sirius himself had made a very great sacrifice in the scheme of things, much greater than anyone else. God only knew how much the Black heir had loved Harry, James still remembered how much his best friend had doted upon his son.

But he was forced to give it all up and languish in Azkaban. That particular setup by the Department had been too cruel, James could not understand for the world why Sirius would agree to such a proposal. But he had agreed, stunning most of the department with his loyalty.

Sirius Black might be a hated fugitive to the outside world, but inside the confines of the department his name was celebrated.

"I don't know what to do, Sirius. How can you make a fourteen year old kid understand what the Potter family was forced to give up during the first war? The Wizarding world does not really remember the magnitude of the darkness we were mired in thirteen years ago. I fear Harry is…"

Sirius' face hardened with anger, and his eyes flashed.

"I never liked Croaker, he and Albus really messed our boy up. Croaker was always about results, wasn't he? That moron…I really want to kill him myself for what he did to Harry" he said coldly. But then he softened: "But Harry has no idea of the power he possesses, with those eyes of his he could be…well, he could be the next Emrys"

"That power does not come without a cost, Siri, and without that power he would die against Voldemort. I don't know what to do, I just don't know!" he said wildly.

"What's Nick doing in all this? That bloke should have stepped in a long time ago!" snarled Sirius. James shook his head sadly.

"Nicholas and Perenelle have their own responsibilities, as you very well know. Now Snape has my son, and you know what that greasy idiot will do. I wouldn't be surprised if Harry simply joined Voldemort to spite us, you know. Not after what we've put him through. Nicholas would be forced to step in if that happens, we cannot let the first bearer of the Eternal Mangekyo to fall to the dark! That can't happen. It just can't…" said James in tones of soft despair.

"Jamesie, I can help you out there. We are Animagi, after all, and I can help keep an eye on our boy and even Little Isabelle if you want. I can keep him from becoming too much like dear old Snivelly." said Sirius cheerfully. James could still not believe the resilience of his closest friend; even after thirteen years in the hell called Azkaban he still was as close to normal as possible.

"I can't ask you to do that, Siri…you have gone through enough. You still have a part to play, and you need to be ready. If Albus catches you snooping around there is no telling what he'd do. Nicholas has already cut Albus off from the High chair-"

"Yes I will do it, Jamesie" said Sirius firmly. "There is nothing I wouldn't do for Harry. The Potters and Blacks have always been kin, and I will honour that bond as best as I can. Albus is not heartless, James. He is just too desensitized to the misery of it all, you know. It is a natural defence of the human psyche against situations such as his. Albus is no immortal, Jamesie. But coming back to the point, yes, I will hide out at Hogwarts to help Harry. Not even you could stop me from doing so."

James clasped his friend's arm solemnly.

"Thank you, my friend. I won't forget this, I promise"

…..

A certain rat scarpered through the dank passageways of a remote castle, dextrously slipping through cracks and crevices hardly visible.

It came out in a large room, looking here and there frantically and chittered. It ran to the single chair sitting in the middle of the room, and to the abomination that was seated weakly in the middle of the chair. The abomination was hooded by a cloak, and only glowing red eyes were visible.

"What news, Wormtail?"

The rat morphed fluidly into a ratlike man, shabby in the extreme. Peter Pettigrew bowed to his lord, shaking in fear. His master's grasp of magic was frighteningly deep; he still shook in fear at the memory of the ritual his lord had used to gain a tangible body. Then later his Lord had gained even more strength for some reason, he had no idea why. One night he was an immobile homunculus, and the next morning he had the strength of a weak human child. Peter could feel echoes of the true power of the dark in his Lord, mere fractions of the strength he had commanded at the height of his glory.

But still he was nothing compared to Lord Voldemort. _He will return soon enough with me by his side,_ thought Peter._ When he returns, not even Albus will be able to stop him. He seems stronger for some reason…I feel it. _

"My lord, events are going as planned. The tournament has begun, and he is able to influence it as you require. The Goblet has chosen the one you want and it will only be a matter of time before the dark order rises again!" squeaked Wormtail.

The figure in the chair let out a sibilant hiss, causing an enormous serpent to slither onto its form. Then it held out a wand, pushing it out from the depths of its cloak.

"_Crucio!"_

Wormtail screamed in pain, feeling the torture of white hot knives rending his flesh into pieces. His master held the curse for a couple minutes, causing his screams to escalate to high pitched squealing. Suddenly the curse was lifted, causing Wormtail to slump onto the floor in relief.

"Do not presume too much, Wormtail. Lord Voldemort does not tolerate presumption on the part of vermin such as you. And do not think I can't sense your thoughts now, you traitor. You wish to abandon me again?" asked Voldemort in a chilling voice.

Peter shook like a leaf in the wind at seeing his master's eyes glow a dull red. Voldemort flicked his wand weakly: "_Cysgodol Gwylio"_

The shadows in the room flickered and vanished, leaving absolutely no shadows in the dimly lit hall.

"Your wards are weak, Wormtail, just like you are. I can feel a constant stirring in the ambient magic, something has changed. Something very old has returned to this world, you snivelling rat. I am not yet strong enough scry with my own magic…Do you know what the _Ritual of Scrying_ entails? I require assistance in arranging the ritual."

"N-no master…" sniffled Wormtail. A chilling laughter escaped Voldemort as he withdrew his wand. "A Pity…" he said. "A pity _you _had to find me, and not someone like Severus or Lucius. No matter, I still have one faithful lieutenant in my ranks…and I will use him. Send a letter to Hogwarts, Wormtail, conveying to him my orders to attend me at once"

Bowing, Wormtail scarpered away in his rat form. _The Dark Lord is becoming restless, and his power is growing slowly day by day. If…no, when he is resurrected I will be honoured beyond all others._

….

"He is angry, Harry. They all are angry at you for cheating….can you really blame them? Ravenclaw had hopes for a champion of their own house, as did Slytherin. Hufflepuff was absolutely frantic for Cedric Diggory to be chosen. Then someone they detest to the core comes along and grabs their glory? I am afraid it will only get worse, Harry…" said Hermione worriedly.

Harry strode along unconcernedly, at least on the outside. He could handle students easily enough, no problem. But he was worried by others…the ones who had a real hand in the game. He was sure Voldemort had something to do with the entire affair; he could almost feel it like some sixth sense. When it came to Voldemort, he had no doubt that his instinct was uncanny.

And where Voldemort and he were involved, the Department was also involved. The Heads of the other schools were also wildcards he could not anticipate easily. The allegiance of the Moody impostor was also questionable. Who did _he_ work for?

_So many variables and unpredictables. I must tread extremely carefully…I will be noticed since I have entered the tournament by unlawful means._

He ignored the hateful looks every student shot him, heading towards the Potions class. The approval or disapproval of these insects meant nothing to him, they were beneath him. He was better than them and he would always be. Hermione strode hurriedly beside him and whispered: "Harry, let us avoid the Gryffindors…go in a little late. The entire house is enraged with you, the Weasleys especially. They might even attack you."

Harry looked at her curiously. "Are you scared of them, Hermione? You _know_ we are better than them. You show it every year by outstripping them in class, I show it by enduring things they cannot imagine. If they attack us, we respond likewise."

Hermione's face firmed and she nodded, discreetly slipping a palm upon her wand. Harry did the same nonchalantly. A small part of Harry felt happiness at the fact that Hermione was here with him so loyally, with no coercion or force. When everyone and everything was against him, she alone stood by his side.

They coolly walked into the Potions classroom, just a mite early. Heads turned towards them in a jiffy with most students wearing looks of hatred at best. Harry watched with secret amusement as Ron faced away from him as if he was deeply hurt.

_Fool,_ thought Harry as he occupied a desk with Hermione. He spied Malfoy sitting quietly, not joining in his taunting by the Slytherins. His hidden Sharingan flashed to the door, seeing near it a magical presence. Snape was probably here.

The quietness of the forbidding and dank classroom was broken as Theodore Nott stood up and yelled: "Gryffindors are scum! Potter cheated his way into the tournament, and they have the gall to call _us_ treacherous? Pathetic!" he spat at the Gryffindor half of the room. Harry did not react, but increased his perception through the Sharingan to be ready for some weak attack by his classmates.

Hermione, though, was whispering in his ear to ignore them all. Harry didn't think she noticed him doing exactly that…sometimes he thought Hermione was even slower to adapt to change than Ron. But she did try.

"Potter is no Gryffindor! He is just like you Slytherins, traitorous and useless. You'll pay if you compare Potter to the real Gryffindors, _Nott!_" snarled Seamus, shooting a nasty look at Harry. Harry stared right back into his eyes, and Seamus thought he saw a flash of red in Harry's pupils. Abruptly he turned around, hearing a threat addressed to him by Nott.

"FINNEGAN! YOU'LL SUFFER!"

Seamus saw Nott draw his wand slowly, shouting what was obviously the Balding Hex. The Gryffindor could not contain his alarm and rage as he drew his wand fast and sent a Confundus charm at Nott.

For a moment there was silence as Nott was hit by the charm and moved around like some befuddled calf. Then with a loud roar, the Slytherins pounced upon the Gryffindors with their spells shooting through the air in multi coloured lights.

…..

Harry watched the unfolding chaos with a faint smirk, satisfied with his work. His illusion spell was flawless in its execution, projecting to Seamus the vision of Nott trying to attack him. The moment Seamus looked into his Sharingan unwittingly, Harry had owned him.

He kept his Sharingan active constantly to pick up any new spells cast by the students. Seamus and Nott were clumsily casting curses at each other, not caring what they were doing to their surroundings. The rest of the Gryffindors had jumped on to the desks like monkeys and were letting loose their own brand of hell. Dean Thomas was letting spell after weak spell leave his wand, damaging nothing significantly. One spell of his hit Parvati Patil, causing her to erupt in warts.

_And they call themselves noble and chivalrous_, snorted Harry to himself. The Slytherins themselves were no angels, and were upending benches and sending spells at Snape's jars to create widespread confusion. The utter pandemonium in the room escalated, and Harry neatly concealed himself and Hermione with disillusionment.

Hermione herself watched the scene with her mouth hanging open, having no idea why the fight started in the first place. All she saw was Dean attacking Nott for some small provocation, and then it all went downhill.

Harry smirked once more as he saw a particularly strong leg-locker curse punch a small hole in the black board. _Snape will gut them, _he thought, absently deflecting another leg locker coming right at his face. He saw Hermione deflecting a disarmer coming at her from a Slytherin, sending it right back at them.

"Learnt the _Protego_ _Totalum_, have we, Hermione?" asked Harry. As expected, Hermione had mastered quite a tough shielding charm in a matter of days. She had the casting method down pat, and the power of her shield would increase gradually. Hermione smiled happily, cancelling the shield.

"It was a little difficult, but I found an old book in the library that has exact illustrations of how the shield should look. It really helped in my visualization of its structure. I can make it perfectly concave now, you know!" said Hermione. Harry gravely nodded, deflecting another spell with a single glance and turned back to the 'class'.

Several students lay groaning in their chairs, some on the floor and desks. Half transfigured animals crawled about menacingly, and the combatants seemed to have various unknown skin diseases.

"This is what a well-placed illusion can do, Hermione. Misdirection is a powerful tool, as you can see" said Harry calmly as he removed their concealment. Hermione turned to him sharply.

"Did you provoke Seamus into casting that spell? I assume you had him see Nott attack?" Harry nodded, she was right as always. Hermione shook her head and said: "Hogwarts does not teach illusionary magic, Harry. These students will have no hope of countering such exotic magic. They just do not know what to look for!"

"Do _you_ know what to look for?"

"Well-" began Hermione, but was interrupted by the door opening quietly to let in their potions Professor who surveyed the devastation with a critical eye. Snape turned to Harry and Hermione, noting their lack of injury.

"What happened here, ?" he asked silkily.

"A minor misunderstanding between our houses, sir. Seamus Finnegan attacked Nott with no provocation and kick started this travesty. Both houses got involved, as you can see.", replied Harry with a faint note of smugness in his voice. Hermione remained silent, not knowing what to say.

Snape glanced around coolly, and turned once more to Harry. " , you are required in the anteroom with the other Champions. The Weighing of the wands is about to commence."

He then turned to Hermione. "Miss Granger, you can return to your dormitory. A class cannot happen with one student. And do not help your housemates please; fools will suffer for their foolishness in my class. Leave them be."

…..

Harry walked briskly down to the room where the ceremony would be held, absently muttering a spell of cleanliness. Appearances were important, after all. Professor Snape had told him about the traditions of the Triwizard, and the wand weighing was one of them.

_"More than the wands, , the ones inspected will be the champions. Wands are a reflection of their owners, so what Ollivander really will be doing is checking your integrity and character. The wand of course will be examined, but he will look at the wand and see you in it."_

Snape's words came back to him, and he paused for a moment and drew his wand. With a simple spell, he polished the wand to the point of shining and stowed it back in his robes. He was almost at the door of the chamber.

"Harry Potter?" came a shrill voice behind him. He turned to find a curly haired woman with wire rimmed glasses and an extremely inquisitive and irritating look. He closely inspected her with the Sharingan, making note of the mediocrity of her magic. All he saw in her was pettiness and nastiness.

"Yes. What do you want?"

"No need to be so abrupt, Harry. We are all friends here, aren't we?" cooed the reporter and began to drag him by his arm. Harry let her drag him along, knowing that attacking this woman would present unnecessary complications. The badge upon her robes told him that she was a daily prophet reporter, called Rita Skeeter.

Rita forcefully shoved him in a broom cupboard and turned to him with a beaming smile.

"Cosy? Now, Harry, I am Rita Skeeter reporting for the Prophet. Would you be fine with answering a few questions?"

"_Confundo!" _said Harry, hitting the rude reporter with a powerful Confundus charm. Rita's eyes blanked, and then started rolling around continuously. She slowly started to walk out of the closet but bumped her head on the frame about three times before she got out.

"Greetings, Rita. And you, , has our dear Rita been hiding you away all along?" came a strong voice along the hallway. Harry turned to find Albus Dumbledore closely inspecting Skeeter. He moved ahead of Rita and tried to walk into the ceremony room, but found that he couldn't. His arms and legs were frozen in place, and he turned his head to face Dumbledore staring at him with shining eyes. To his Sharingan it seemed as if Dumbledore were aglow with magic, golden threads of it binding Harry in place.

_How many times must we play this game? _Thought Harry with frustration. He gathered his magic like a great tide, and his Sharingan shone red. At least it would attract attention to them, for he was nowhere near ready to fight Dumbledore. Not without _Tsukuyomi_, and the headmaster would not fall to that again. As it is, he was assiduously avoiding Harry's eyes.

"_Expulso" _said Harry quietly, but the effect was stunning. The floor and the walls crumbled and blasted out in an expanding circle from the force of the spell. Dust clouded the entire hallway and he heard the explosion reach Dumbledore. Dumbledore had stopped restraining him, obviously not expecting such a violent response from his student.

Through the smoke, he saw something forming into a shape. His Sharingan saw through the smoke, witnessing Dumbledore neatly gathering the debris from the explosion in the shape of a large sphere. The sphere then transformed into a Hippogriff, charging violently at him.

_Why is the old man attacking me now? Does he want to put me out of commission or is this some misconceived attempt to train me?_

He could not force a transfiguration on the Hippogriff, nor could he return it to state. It was time for him to try a spell he was reading up on quite a lot. Ever since he copied it, he had been looking for a situation that justified its use.

He raised his hand, pointing it at the Hippogriff that was almost upon him. His palm began to shine green as he intoned:

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

The Hippogriff took the killing curse straight in its chest, and exploded into shards. Harry pointed a palm shining with green light right at Dumbledore.

"You fight well, Harry, but not with patience. A duel has to be fought on _your_ terms. Not mine or anyone else's…and do _not_ use the Killing Curse again. I will be forced to stop you." said Dumbledore firmly, not caring whether Harry was about to fire a lethal curse at him.

"Fallen far, haven't you? Ambushing your own champion on his way to a ceremony is a new low even for you" said Harry in a sarcastic voice as he shot stunners at Dumbledore. A multitude of red beams converged upon Dumbledore who negligently swatted all of them away with a flick of his wand.

"This _is _the weighing of the wands, Harry. Your wand's behaviour is being examined even now, as our wandmakers need to observe it in action. This is usually in the form of a duel with the Headmasters. Please use your wand as that is the whole point. The other champions are being tested by their Headmasters as of now. And do try to use _all_ your abilities" said Dumbledore pointedly, flicking his wand in the direction of a suit of armor which came alive and began brandishing its sword at Harry.

_So, a test. They wish to see my wand in action? Very well…_

With a smooth draw of his wand, Harry banished Dumbledore's suit of Armor right back at him. Dumbledore too responded with a very strong banishing charm that sent the poor suit of armor hurtling back at him at great speeds. His Sharingan spun as he neatly dodged the incoming projectile while simultaneously firing a Reductor at his opponent.

As he saw Dumbledore parry the spell easily, he knew the key was to get Dumbledore to look into his Sharingan. Then putting him in an illusion would be that much easier.

He sent Dumbledore's golden Stunning spell right at him, the one he had copied from the Old man after the train incident . He already saw what Dumbledore's counter with his Sharingan, and followed up with another couple stunners. Without pause he followed up with another copied spell.

"_Hastam Tenebrarum!"_

A short spear of darkness shot towards Dumbledore who was gracefully parrying all the spells coming at him, and withered to nothing when Dumbledore simply waved his wand. Harry steadily became frustrated, not letting it show on his face.

_Is this how wide the gap is between me and the traitor? Well, then…_

"I hate you for everything you have done to me, Professor! You took everything away from me, everything! Even my parents!" sobbed Harry, letting some of his utter anguish show. Dumbledore suddenly appeared in front of Harry and laid a hand on his shoulder, duel forgotten.

"It was for the Greater good, Harry…please forgive me. Those things _had_ to happen, you don't understand yet-"he paused when Harry looked up abruptly, straight into his eyes.

And found himself staring fully into the _Sharingan. _The legendary eyes shone red as Dumbledore disappeared immediately to break contact.

"Well played, Harry!" said Dumbledore loudly. Harry just quietly stared at Dumbledore, saying nothing. "_Reducto!" _said Dumbledore, and the spell blasted towards Harry with terrific force. Dumbledore watched as Harry dissolved into a flock of ravens, his spell not catching the boy in the slightest.

"You looked into my eyes, fool. This duel is over" said Harry, consciously fighting down the urge to just try and kill Dumbledore. "_Impedimenta" _said Dumbledore, the spell causing Harry to dissolve into another flock of ravens that reformed slowly behind Dumbledore.

"I will end this."

Dumbledore fell down as he felt the sensation of the complete vacuum in the place. Harry watched in satisfaction as the Headmaster fell down once more, taken down for the second time by his illusory magic.

Dumbledore's own perceptions were being used against him. The Headmaster was essentially being made to hold his breath even unto death.

_Are illusions truly that unused?_ Mused Harry silently, strangling Dumbledore's efforts to throw off his illusion.

"You cannot overcome my illusion, traitor. I will let you go if you yield" said Harry. Dumbledore was now holding his throat, believing that he was choking to death. _How can he submit if he can't speak?_ Thought Harry smugly. Dumbledore's face slowly turned blue, as he stopped making sounds.

He felt an enormous upsurge of magic in Dumbledore, huge like an ocean. He struggled hard to keep him under submission, sweat breaking out on his face and flowing down in rivulets. He had no doubt he would probably be severely injured if Dumbledore actually tried to fight him. So he morphed his eyes to _eternal Mangekyo, _ruthlessly crushing Dumbledore's troublesome attempts to throw his illusion off.

_Dumbledore really underestimates my eyes, doesn't he? This is what they mean when they say that a user of illusory magic is rare …Wizards just don't know much beyond theory on how to counter it. A great advantage for me. _

Dumbledore finally sank on to the floor, spread eagled. Harry knew the old man would hardly die so easily, and he was proved right when phoenix fire surrounded the Headmaster in a wide circle. When the fire was gone, he saw Dumbledore standing tall with Fawkes on his shoulder.

"Always that bird is around to save a traitor like you. What does the thing see in _you_ anyway? You are as far as you can get from purity, and it is supposed to be the embodiment of purity", asked Harry. Dumbledore just shook his head, and disappeared in a flash of fire, leaving Harry to stand there amidst the destruction of their duel.

…

"Who fought here?" asked Krum, surveying the damage in the hallway entrance to the anteroom.

The Champions were all gathered in the anteroom behind the Great Hall, each of them wearing battered looks. All except Harry and Isabelle, who looked as fresh as ever.

_It seems they were all tested similar to me. What kind of wand weighing ceremony is this? A simple spell from each wand would have sufficed for testing functional reliability. I wonder…_

The door opened quietly, letting in the headmasters of each school. This time Harry saw that Dumbledore had his phoenix sitting on his shoulder. He directly stared into Fawkes' eyes with his Sharingan, and paled slightly: He got images of blazing fire that purified everything in the world…phoenixes were beyond human understanding.

_How in the world did Dumbledore manage to make 'Fawkes', if even that is the thing's real name, his companion? Phoenixes are pure beyond all dispute…Dumbledore is anything but pure. A puzzle…_

"Greetings and felicitations to all the champions of the schools! As expected, you have passed our preliminary test. You have shown that you are capable of using your magic in ways beyond those expected of you. It seems the Goblet chose well…" said Dumbledore. Fawkes surveyed all the champions, calming ragged emotions with his soothing song.

"Vhat kind of test vas this? Ve vere told that our wands would be tested for proper functionality! Instead we were attacked…by our own headmasters? "asked Viktor Krum.

"An unfortunate legacy of the Triwizard, I am afraid" sighed Dumbledore. "To test our students' wands, our wandmaker has to see it casting spells and not trivial ones. We would trust no one but ourselves in this matter, as this is mostly about the wands. The suspicion between schools has always been high…"

"And for good reason, it seems" said Karkaroff snidely. Bagman stepped up looking unwholesomely happy about the entire situation. "Now now, Igor! Let the kids have their fun when they can! We still need to have Ollivander's feedback on all this, you know?"

Harry clearly saw the disillusionment being lifted from the creepy old wand maker. What surprised him was that none of his opponents seemed surprised either, watching Ollivander warily. The old man stepped up to face the champions, his eyes roving over a parchment that seemed to have detailed notes on it.

_Arithmantical calculations, _thought Harry. _Ollivander is a much acclaimed wand maker, after all. The intricacy of the art is very impressive indeed._

" " said Ollivander, looking at the beautiful Veela gravely. Fleur looked at him with rapt attention, despite her look of fatigue and torn robes. Harry observed that she seemed to have an uncanny connection with her wand, even more than was normal. She almost seemed one with her wand, really.

"Your wand is fine. It conducts magic exceptionally well…yours, , is on the slower side when it comes to spellcasting. But that is your problem. Gregorovitch creations are masterpieces, after all."

He looked at Isabelle and Harry next, seeming to examine them in minute detail. He looked at Isabelle steadily and continued:

" 's wand is in excellent condition, but it is yet to be registered with our ministry is it not, my dear?" he asked softly. Isabelle nodded at this, while Harry's ears perked up at this information.

"I have one last piece of advice for you, my dear. The wand chooses the witch or Wizard, and both learn from each other. Your wand has learnt many things from you…many things indeed. Be sure to know fully what it is that it has learned so well…the information may save your life one day", he said enigmatically. Isabelle nodded once more, her eyes wide.

To Harry however, these words made little sense. Thoughts on this matter were driven further away when Ollivander addressed him.

" …It seems you are no longer the innocent child that purchased that wand from me. Your wand also has learnt many things from you…but I am afraid you have learnt little from it. Any wand will work well for you, but that wand has your spirit burning bright in it. It may yet be of use to you, " he said, never taking his eyes off Harry's.

Immediately Harry's eyes shifted to Eternal Mangekyo, and he whispered "_Tsukuyomi"_. He faced Ollivander in the bleak red world, its white clouds racing and the sky shining with the colour of blood. Ollivander stood opposite him in the desolate plains of _Tsukuyomi_, examining the world with extreme fascination.

"Beautiful…it is as if this world is as real as our own! But then again, what is reality? A question Wizard kind has pondered for many centuries…" he turned to Harry with an unreadable expression on his face. " , I am afraid I know your secret. Albus filled me in on what happened, and you have my sincerest condolences and apologies. No child should go through what you have gone through…but you must remember what I told you. You are destined for greatness, . And that greatness requires terrible sacrifices, much like your own. And I am afraid your journey has only just begun."

Harry's eyes shone, and the entire world rippled as he delved effortlessly into Ollivander's mind and searched for any sign of complicity in his sufferings. Ollivander did not even try to block his mind from attack, laying open his thoughts with alacrity.

"It seems you are innocent of causing me pain" said Harry. "But I cannot let you leave with the experience of my world. It is bad enough Dumbledore knows."

"And your sister" said Ollivander. "Albus is a close friend of mine, and trusts me a great deal. But do what you must, . Even if I wanted to, I could do nothing to stop you here. This place is yours, absolutely."

_Tsukuyomi_ rippled once more as Harry gently excised Ollivander's memory of being in his illusion. Then he ejected the old Wandmaker smoothly out of his world.

In the anteroom of Hogwarts, Ollivander shook himself slightly a second later, and continued.

"The weighing of the wands is over, and the champions are ready with their wand and mind. The tasks can be begun!" he said in an official voice to the assembled headmasters and authorities.

Harry smirked in the background, feeling Isabelle's eyes on him. _My skill with Tsukuyomi is growing slowly. Who knows what other powers my eyes hide?_

_Maybe Ollivander was right. Power like mine has the potential to change history, and the magic that comes with my eyes can shake the pillars of Wizardry itself. Maybe all such power comes at a price._

_Then again, what is light without darkness? How can you know sweetness without tasting bitterness?_

_But to be the most powerful, I will pay a price ten times higher than what I have now. I will stop at nothing until I stand at the very top of the Wizarding world, acknowledged as unsurpassed._


	8. Chapter 8

**ENJOY THE CHAPTER!**

**Regards,**

**Karldin.**

CHAPTER 8

Albus Dumbledore sat in his beautiful office, sorting through his paperwork calmly. In truth not much of his attention was focused upon it instead choosing to dwell on the duel between himself and Harry. The boy had a long way to go before he could challenge him but Dumbledore was certain that he could make it.

When Karkaroff suggested the 'trial by combat' method of assessing wands, he had not voiced a very strong opposition. Mainly because he wanted to see how Harry was developing under Snape. And he had been rather surprised when Harry had thrown a perfect Killing curse at one of his transfigurations to return it to base form. Dumbledore had to admire the ingenuity in that plan…instead of going through a lengthy reverse-transfiguration, Harry had simply brought it down with the Killing curse.

Overall, he could say Harry was progressing very well. The light would have its destined saviour one way or another, for Dumbledore was sure that when Tom returned…even he himself would find it difficult to stop the Dark Lord. The last he had duelled Voldemort, it had been a draw. A draw in which Voldemort had held the slight upper hand.

The death eaters were no trivial matter either, marauding through great Britain with impunity. He had held the first wave of the dark at bay with difficulty, and for the second assault he would need help.

He looked up as he felt a slight distortion in the magic of the room, seeing his mentors standing there hand in hand.

"Professors Flamel, thank you for coming. Please have a seat" he said, causing two comfortable chintz chairs to appear for them. The two looked at him for a moment more, and then sat down on the chairs. They were adorned in robes of pristine white and to his trained senses, they gave off magic like the sun gave off heat.

Among the only others he knew with such inherent magic was himself and Voldemort. Harry was another potential who was progressing at an alarming pace.

"Why have you called us here, Albus?" questioned Perenelle calmly, fixing her glowing blue eyes upon his own. Even after the endless turning of time, she still kept her ethereal beauty. Albus had always been struck by her beauty ever since he was a little boy learning at their feet.

"I need authorization, Professors" said Dumbledore plainly, not trying to beat around the bush. He couldn't conceal much from them anyway.

Nicholas and Perenelle stared at him unblinkingly, as if they were studying his whole being. Dumbledore continued, taking their attention once more.

"I need your authorization to…for the lack of a better word, _meddle_ in the tournament. There are some things I need to do for young Harry, things that will prepare him for the coming onslaught. He is learning well under Severus, and he is also mastering the Sharingan."

Nicholas frowned, "So you called for us, knowing that Jurisdiction over matters of the Sharingan fall directly under us? What is it you wish to do to Harry Potter now…not another prison I hope?"

Dumbledore frowned, shaking his head. "Despite what you might believe, I believe that was the _only_ way for Harry to awaken his eyes. You know I tried literally everything else for thirteen years."

Nicholas shook his head, motioning for Dumbledore to continue.

"I need to interfere in the tasks, make it a little more of a challenge for young Harry. His eyes will grow stronger in only the most stressful circumstances, Professors. You know as well as me that instinct is more important than learning!"

"I'm sure it is" murmured Perenelle. Nicholas looked at his wife, and something passed between them. Dumbledore hid his anxiety, looking at them politely. Nicholas turned to Dumbledore with a firm expression upon his face.

"You may make it more challenging, Albus. But _not_ lethal or traumatic. Arcturus would be disgusted if he saw what we were doing to a bearer of the Sharingan. I want him to learn magic, not hate. Do you understand?"

Albus sighed, these directives would make things a little tougher but he could work around them. Perenelle looked coolly at Albus, and said:

"Albus, I know what you are thinking. When I mean _no_ _harm_, I really mean it. I failed to protect Arcturus, my beloved brother. Me and Nicholas waited through the centuries, nurturing the line of my brother becoming one of our many responsibilities. Harry bears my brother's eyes, and_ I_ will protect him until he is ready to protect himself. Do not test me with another stunt like the one in Azkaban!" she said in a cold voice, blue-grey magic erupting out of her in a storm and making his office shake with its power.

Dumbledore watched with round eyes as Perenelle Flamel let her magic loose. Nicholas laid a hand upon hers, and she seemed to calm down considerably. The Flamels got up, but not without a parting word.

"Do not harm the boy again, Albus. We trust you a great deal now by giving you this authorization. Do not harm him."

…

"Does anyone here know how to perform a stunning spell?" asked Professor Vector, looking around at her combined class of Gryffindors and Ravenclaw. No one lifted their hands, all of them looking sheepishly at their classmates. Terry Boot lifted his hand, asking curiously.

"Why do we need stunners here, professor?"

"It is relevant to our current topic, . What is the meaning of a powerful spell, anyone?" she asked.

"A spell that achieves maximum effect?" answered a Ravenclaw. "Wrong" said the young Professor, pointing to the next raised hand. "A spell that utilizes enormous magic?"

"Wrong" murmured Vector, allowing her eyes to pause on her favourite student. Harry Potter had impressed her with his diligence and deep grasp of magic. He seemed to have an encyclopaedic knowledge of Arithmancy, no…an encyclopaedic knowledge of all core magical subjects. That and he did not fool around, focusing on his studies like a man obsessed. He had quickly caught up to Hermione Granger as the top Student of the class, seemingly without effort.

" ?" she asked. Harry looked up calmly, and replied in a clear voice.

"A powerful spell is one that aligns all components of a derived spell to perfection, and magically pushes them collectively to their exact limit."

Vector beamed. "Exactly! That was the perfect answer. Severus is doing his job well, huh?" she asked enthusiastically. All the other students grimaced at this, but she did not care. The way he was going, she would not be surprised if Harry would not graduate in a few subjects before seventh year.

"Yes, that is right. A spell is made up of many forces of mind and magic, and to truly utilize its full power you must understand it to the most basic level. So, anyone know a stunner? , perhaps?" she asked, prompting the girl to draw her wand.

"Shoot a stunner at me please, . Your strongest one."

Without hesitation, Hermione pointed her wand at her Professor and shouted "STUPEFY!" A thick red beam of light blasted towards the Professor, who did not bother with parrying the spell or shielding from it. To Harry's amazed eyes, she actually managed to take Hermione's stunner and _unravel_ it, essentially changing the spell structure itself. It was like catching an arrow mid-flight with a sword and chopping it into its separate parts: fletching, body, and head.

_How did she do that?_ thought Harry. _That is supposed to be an art lost to Wizard kind...only Morgana was supposed to have that ability. I am sure Snape can't do it, nor Dumbledore. That might have looked like a block to these idiots, but my eyes saw the truth. I will confront her later._

"That was an excellent spell, . Now, watch closely as I show you what happens when you use that spell perfectly" she casually flicked her wand and a clear red light slammed into the board, punching a large gaping hole in it.

Vector turned happily to the class that had their mouths gaping open.

Harry's eyes narrowed as he considered the possibilities, he had seen Vector doing extremely subtle magic. Snape was teaching him magic like a true master, but he had no doubt Vector could help him with the finest nuances. He needed her to teach him.

"I do not expect you to reach my level of efficiency. That is for masters of Arithmancy and above. But I do expect you to understand spell casting better, and strive for excellence. On that note let us please proceed to Hargrove's theory of spell quality…"

…...

"Harry, aren't you coming?" asked Hermione, looking curiously at her straggling best friend. Harry waved at her to continue, slowly gathering his books and waiting for the classroom to empty itself. He watched as Vector cleaned the board with a single spell, and rearranged the benches with the same.

"Yes, ?" she smiled at Harry as he approached her warily. Harry knew that he had to give up some of his secrets to this woman for his idea to work. Vector to his knowledge was just a prodigy with no known affiliations. He kept his Sharingan turned on as he sat opposite his professor.

"Professor Vector, I have a question" he asked, Sharingan seeing everything. "Shoot" said the beautiful young woman, stowing her wand in her robe pocket. Harry leaned forward, observing her closely.

"How long would it take for someone to learn to disperse spells the way you do? I mean, take it apart so effortlessly?" he asked. Vector looked at him with her face white…Sharingan saw through to her fear.

"What are you talking about, ?" she asked in a shaking voice. Harry leaned forward so much so that they were almost nose to nose.

"I am talking about the way you handled Hermione's spell, Professor. Unravelling structured magic like that was one of the powers of Morgana Pendragon. How did _you _get it?" he asked mock curiously. Vector shuddered, then stood up.

"I have no idea what you are talking about!" she said, "besides, even if I did such a thing, how did you see it? Can you see magic itself?" she asked sarcastically.

"Yes"

Vector gasped at his answer, her eyes lighting up in recognition. She pointed her wand at his face, and muttered "_Finite"_ causing his illusion to dissipate. Harry had to give it to her, she had jumped to that conclusion quite well.

"_Sharingan" _she muttered in fascination, staring hard at the glowing red eyes with three commas adorning each pupil. "So that is what you are up to with Severus? I wondered why you of all people struck that deal with him…You are learning magic from him with those eyes, aren't you?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. And do not ask me how I have these eyes. That is one secret more than I want to reveal, Professor. Now, there is only one reason why I showed you these eyes."

"And what is that?" asked Vector, still staring in amazedly at the Sharingan. It was not every day one saw a mythic bloodline pop up among their students. Harry folded his hands and spoke, "I want to learn the art of unravelling spells from you. My eyes have a chance of taking that art farther than it has ever been taken, you know it. My eyes and magic with your talent…who knows how far we could push the boundaries of that art?" he asked wonderingly. Vector seemed entranced as she considered the idea.

"So true, …I am possibly the only person who can unravel spells the way Morgana did, and I can teach you it. I do not have Morgana's connection to magic to perform this art on a large scale…but perhaps _you_ can. I always wanted to pass on my ability to someone, . But if the ministry found out whose powers I have been reconstructing, I would be in no little trouble. You will be discrete, I trust?"

"Yes. Oath?"

Vector nodded firmly. "Oath of silence, . I will accept nothing else" Harry nodded at this, extending his hand to grasp Vector's right hand. His eyes glowed as he wove a binding of silence over them. This was a powerful binding spell, stopping betrayal by taking away thoughts of the matter.

"I swear not to betray Septima Vector's secrets in any form to anyone" said Harry, followed by Vector. With a rush of magic, he sealed the oath of Silence. Vector too said her oath, sealing the spell on both ends. Vector smiled brightly, looking for all the world like an enthused kid.

"We start this weekend, . I expect you to meet me at five in the evening…I want to see for myself what the Sharingan is capable of."

…..

Igor Karkaroff ghosted through the corridors of the castle with stealth acquired through years of skulking and spying. The ex-Death Eater's grudge towards Dumbledore was not small at all, and he would take every chance to humiliate the Headmaster of Hogwarts. The truth was, he had a point to prove. Dumbledore needed to be brought off his high horse, the disgusting old bastard. Karkaroff absolutely loathed the old man for being such an enemy to the aims of the Dark order, such an enemy to Lord Voldemort. Not that he himself was any better after serving up his comrades to the ministry like the traitor he was.

"_Homenum Revelio" _ he whispered, checking for human presence. He found none. Karkaroff smirked and snuck through the castle doors, sneaking off towards the forbidden forest like a child hurrying toward candy.

What the esteemed Headmaster of Durmstrang was not aware of was the fact that Harry was tailing him discreetly, cloaked by a disillusionment so powerful that it rendered him invisible. Harry could not believe the incompetence of the Durmstrang headmaster when he was satisfied of privacy just with _Homenum Revelio._ It was not hard to hide from that spell, really. It was just basic illusion magic to fool such simple detections.

The night air rustled the forest as he clandestinely trudged through the forest behind the unsuspecting Durmstrang Headmaster, staring everywhere with the Sharingan. It seemed they were alone but for the forest and its denizens.

_Snape picked Karkaroff's thoughts so easily from his mind! Without that tip, I would never have one up over the others _thought Harry, constantly casting silencing charms in his vicinity. Snape proved his mastery at mind arts again when he pilfered Karkaroff's mind cleanly for Triwizard data.

He had hinted for Harry to follow Karkaroff today, and that was exactly what he had done. He curiously followed Karkaroff as the man trudged deeper into the forest at an ever increasing pace, not bothering with any concealment.

He noticed that the forest seemed to thin down to a clearing, and carefully followed. Picking up traces of fire being spewed ahead, he hid behind a large tree and gazed into the clearing.

And he just gaped at the sight that met his eyes.

Four Dragons were being constrained by wizards, about twenty for each beast. They seemed to be struggling to free themselves from their enchanted restraints, making horrible screeches and shooting fire left and right.

_Four dragons for four champions,_ he thought watching the wizards stun their dragon into submission. With Sharingan, he could see the absolutely enormous magic the dragons embodied, and he began to be concerned. What were they to do with these dragons? Would they be asked to battle with them?

Harry continued quietly past Karkaroff, recognizing Charlie Weasley amongst the Wizards subduing the dragons. He could make out Charlie's lip movements, allowing him to catch his speech.

"_Too bad they have to retrieve eggs from a nesting mother, Lester…They'll get fried like one of mum's chicken recipes, I'm afraid."_

Twenty minutes later, Harry sat in the common room watching Hermione talk animatedly with one of the third years who was apparently interested in charms. Her name was…Demelza…something. Harry shook his head; some third year did not matter. All that filled his mind was the revelation in the forbidden forest, causing him to frown deeply.

He couldn't have agreed more with Charlie's last comments…Dragon fire was extremely hard to contain, being infused with enormous magic. His thoughts went to one of the titles in transfiguration that he had memorized to perfection.

_The bounds of transfiguration are far from limitless, at least the known bounds of Transfiguration. Certain magical creatures are completely resistant to transfiguration, a prominent example being Dragons. The extremely large pool of magic in a Dragon's body and its complex anatomy makes its Transfiguration nigh impossible._

_Dragon fire is a product of the unique magic of these fascinating creatures. Shields that can contain this particular fire require either extremely advanced transfiguration, for the fire is not natural in any way. It is infused with a great amount of magic that destroys much faster than normal fire._

_It is possible to counter the fire without really stopping it, but this too requires exquisite instinct of magic. This method was demonstrated by Albus Dumbledore when he transfigured the fire thrown at him by two dragons. To be precise, he wrested control of the Dragon fire from its creators and used it against them. For full details of the relevant duel, refer…_

Harry had no time to learn such extremely complex spells and theories, as the First task was just around the corner. No. His answer, he was sure, lay in something much simpler. Thinking thoughts of how to defeat a massive creature of fire and magic, he walked towards the Library. He doubted that details of any spell that would help him fight a dragon would be left in a part of the Library accessible to students…but he would look anyways.

He sighed as he saw an unruly first year boy threw around a fanged Frisbee, obviously discovering the joy of breaking Filch's petty rules. Neatly evading the hissing Frisbee by leaning slightly to the side, Harry shot a stream of fire at it with a wave of his wand_. _His eyes widened as the Frisbee flew out of the way, giving him a realization that was incredible.

With a smirk he changed route, dashing up to his dormitory to get his Firebolt. _I wonder what Krum will say when I fly as well as him?_, he thought with pride in his Sharingan.

…..

_Isabelle_

_I am afraid that matters have changed. Albus will interfere this time as well, but with our approval. The Sharingan cannot evolve with no stress, thus we are providing the stressful circumstances. To avoid 's ire, we will be making the task of every champion equally hard._

_Do not worry, is under the personal protection of Perenelle during the task. If Albus messes around too much, he will regret it._

_The dragons will be there, but with a twist. You could use some conditioning as well so we will not tell you much beyond that. I think I don't need to tell you how much you need to protect Harry Potter. That is your sole purpose at Hogwarts, do not fail us._

_Nicholas and Perenelle._

Isabelle folded the letter, stowing it into her robes. The first task was only three days away and this had to come up. She had prepared carefully for the dragons…now she had to make other plans. She was sure that Dumbledore would make the challenge as hard as possible if it were to test Harry on the next level.

"Reading hard, Isabelle?" came a melodious voice behind her, causing her to turn. Fleur was one of her very best friends since she was a little girl, the two of them having stuck together through thick and thin. Fleur was very popular in the school for her beauty and ability and many were sure she would rise high in the French magical hierarchy. Isabelle herself was considered potentially one of the greatest Witches to have ever passed through Beauxbatons.

"Not really, Fleur. We can handle anything they throw at us, can't we? We _have _been training for this tournament for a long time now" Isabelle said. Fleur nodded at this, sitting down daintily opposite Isabelle in her chair. Isabelle shook her head slightly, easily throwing off the effects of the Veela allure from Fleur.

"You read too much Isabelle. Let's go out to fly!" said Fleur abruptly, summoning their brooms smoothly. Isabelle tried to get in a word edgewise, but was hushed by the stunningly beautiful French witch as she was dragged out forcibly.

Isabelle was a decent flyer, really. Not as good as her dad or Harry, of course, but she got by. But she really loved the freedom that came with flying. The death defying stunts her dad sometimes performed were not really for her, though. She much preferred simply drifting through the air, high and dry.

Extracting her arm from her best friends' grasp, she marched towards the Quidditch pitch. "It is so beautiful to fly here, is it not? Beauxbatons is better, though. Much better", said Fleur proudly. Isabelle nodded noncommittally, "Of course it is"

Fleur walked in silence after that, both of them enjoying the tranquillity the silent castle provided in the night. Students here followed the rules for the most part and did not come out at the night.

As they neared the Quidditch pitch, they saw someone else standing in the middle of it. Fleur made forward to talk with him but Isabelle knew better. She could recognize her brother even by his silhouette.

"Wait and watch!" said Isabelle briskly, pulling on Fleur's sleeve to make her stop. Fleur looked at her curiously "What?"

"That is Harry Potter. Don't you want to see how he flies? It might be valuable information for the tasks, Fleur. We might not get this chance again…you can also take time to analyse his reactions and reflexes" asserted Isabelle calmly.

Then they went and seated themselves on the furthest seats and observed the young Potter who stood dead centre of the Pitch with his Firebolt held in his hands. Isabelle could see clearly his form illuminated by the moonlight, and faintly feel his magic growing.

"How is he so strong?" asked Fleur in a wondering voice. The young Frenchwoman felt the extent of the magic the young boy contained…it was sinister beyond belief. Not dark exactly, but more like deadly. "I did not feel this much magic from the boy before. Was he consciously controlling himself?"

"Maybe" said Isabelle, and turned back to her brother who raised his wand. _I cannot tell her about the Sharingan._

Isabelle felt the gathering of magic in Harry as he whirled his wand and thrust it into the air. With growing alarm, she saw the shining red eyes of her brother with its three tomoes.

"_SILENCIO!"_ roared Harry, slashing his wand through the air. With growing wonder, Isabelle felt the silencing charm encompass the entire stadium in its scope. Fleur gasped loudly, but the silencing charm was so dense that she could not hear herself. The entire stadium was silenced completely…_much more efficient than some privacy charm. Simpler and easier cast, huh?_

Then Harry flew off into the air smoothly and Isabelle observed his ease on a broom. Fleur's eyes became round as Harry began to perform manoeuvres that were worthy of Viktor Krum, flying like a demon.

_How can you fly this well, brother? This is your talent and not the Sharingan though it helps. It's just like looking at dad fly…_ she thought wistfully, imagining how it would be if all the Potters were together. The resulting image brought unbidden tears to her eyes, and she cried at last for the brother who would never love her. She cried as she saw the grace of Harry's flying remind her so much of their father…they were so alike yet so different.

She wiped her tears away, steeling her heart. Before long, she would have to be iron hard with Harry for her brother would be in no mood for reunion or forgiveness. Harry was maturing rapidly, and his magic even more so. When he awoke the second and third powers of the Mangekyo…she shuddered. This went unnoticed by Fleur who watched Harry's graceful flight with an enraptured expression. He looked so free and focused.

_I will watch you during the task, Little brother. Someday you will understand our reasons and at least not hate us anymore. A very thin hope…but it is all I have._

…

Owls flew in great numbers into the Great Hall, dropping in the customary morning post from various sources to the students. Harry seemed to notice a large number of students getting the Daily Prophet. In fact, Hermione herself got a Prophet, eagerly unfurling it to read the contents.

For some reason after a few minutes of reading the paper, everyone in the Hall seemed to direct looks of uncertainty and malice at him. Hermione herself seemed to wither slowly as she read the contents of the paper, she turned to Harry with a sad look on her face.

"Harry…"

Harry just grabbed the newspaper and started reading the front page:

_THE BOY-WHO-LIVED VIOLENT AND UNCHECKED_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_The Wizarding world has had its share of messiahs and saviours who changed it irrevocably. Be it Circe, Merlin or the founders they have become symbols of hope and brightness for our community._

_But not all. For our very own 'saviour' Harry Potter shows dangerous signs of violence and instability. He in fact attacked this reporter with a Confundus charm for asking a few simple questions. in fact seems to closely follow the policy of shoot first and ask questions later. The trigger-happy young Gryffindor has always been thus, reveals Pansy Parkinson, a top student at Hogwarts. In fact if sources are to be believed, Potter set a snake on a student in his second year at Hogwarts._

_A Parseltongue-speaker? They were always considered dark. The Dark Force defence League has in fact-_

Harry laid the paper aside and resumed eating calmly. Today was the day of the First Task and his preparations were all complete. Today he would test Sharingan against real opponents who would want to kill him.

The entire hall now seemed to be alternately murmuring and glaring at him, but he didn't bother with the fools. Hermione prodded him hard, causing him to look up with a slightly annoyed expression. "Did you attack Rita Skeeter?" she hissed with alarm. Harry waved her away unconcernedly.

"Don't worry too much about her, Hermione. It doesn't really matter at this point what she publishes in that paper, you know…mainly because I don't care. I have bigger fish to fry" he said calmly, cutting up his toast. Hermione seemed uncertain as she picked up her own toast.

"Be careful with her Harry, she has a bad reputation" cautioned Hermione worriedly. Harry just nodded, watching as the champions of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arrived for their breakfast. Isabelle was all dressed up for combat as were Krum and Delacour. Harry could see Isabelle gathering her magic even now and found it to be quite strong. Not really as much as his…but not inconsiderable.

He kept his wand easily accessible, Snape's warnings from the previous night coming to mind.

_" …do NOT let the world know about your Wandless magic. Always use a wand, and do not use the Dark Arts unless your life is threatened. We do not want public disapproval on you above everything else. You have a plan for the Dragons, I believe?" he asked briskly. Harry nodded, still thinking of his plan._

_"I do. Not what you will be expecting, though."_

_"That is good, for being predictable is as close as you can get to being useless. Surprise me, . Show me how to take on a full grown dragon" said Snape. Harry nodded tightly, a small smirk upon his face. _

Harry watched as Dumbledore stood up at the staff table, followed by Karkaroff, Maxime and the other tournament officials. The tournament appeared to be getting maximum coverage from the media as Harry could see many reporters from the prophet clicking pictures of the event.

"Greetings all. Today you will be witnessing the first task of the Triwizard Tournament!" said Dumbledore in a ringing voice. The great Hall fell silent, listening to Albus Dumbledore. The chattering stopped.

"So with no further delay, let us adjourn to the arena!" said the Hogwarts headmaster, sweeping out to said arena with the other dignitaries. With a great scraping of benches, the students from the three schools followed eagerly as the legendary tournament began at last.

"Follow me, Potter. You will be joining the other champions in the waiting tent" said Minerva McGonagall's brisk voice to Harry. Harry nodded at Hermione, who seemed at the brink of tears from her worry. He totally ignored the other Gryffindors giving him looks of pure loathing and followed McGonagall out of the Hall.

He walked by her in silence, not attempting to break the silence. His Sharingan could observe her distress even though she did not show it at all. _Something about me entering the tournament, I'd say,_ thought Harry as he saw the Professor's lips tighten into a thin line, a sure indicator of her displeasure. Well, he was not really concerned about McGonagall's happiness at the moment.

"Here we are, . The other champions are waiting here" she said, and strode out with no wish of luck. Harry didn't even look at her, and entered the tent. The sight that met him was quite hilarious as he saw the acclaimed wizards of his generation pace about as if they were facing an execution. Even Isabelle, self-acclaimed trained assassin was pacing about like some child. Harry didn't even look at them, choosing to seat himself as far away as possible from the other three. The fools just weren't worth his time.

The next moment he was confronted by his sister who stopped her pacing in front of him.

"Harry, are you prepared?" she asked anxiously. Harry did not even answer her, instead choosing to rearrange his socks. Each time Isabelle spoke to him, ice cold anger would rear in his heart demanding him to strike her down painfully.

_Not yet…not yet. Not strong enough! _panted the voice in his mind. Harry winced slightly at the return of the insane voice…it had first bloomed immediately after his release from Azkaban. It had alarmed him a little, but he would not act until it caused him harm.

"Harry, are you alright?" questioned Isabelle, raising a hand to his cheek. Harry stiffened at the contact as if he were burnt, and immediately stared at Isabelle showing her his Sharingan for just a moment. Recoiling as if she were struck, she slowly went back to Fleur who was glaring at him angrily.

"Filthy eenglish pigs! Weak and impolite at the same time." she sneered at him. Krum was still pacing about murmuring words under his breath.

Harry froze. _She calls us weak?_

He stared right into her eyes and showed her a small part of the madness festering within him. The hatred that nearly drove him mad.

Fleur could not look away from his eyes as she saw visions of herself being cut to pieces, rent asunder and burnt to shreds by Harry. The pure hatred crushed her, and never having had such malice directed at her before she screamed.

"AAARRGHH!"

Isabelle was at Fleur's side at an instant, trying to break Harry's illusion by injecting magic into Fleur. Harry still stared right into Fleur's eyes, not letting her go. _Veela are beneath us. Everyone is beneath us! The world itself is BENEATH US! _Snarled the voice in his mind.

"HARRY STOP!" screamed Isabelle, as Fleur began to convulse terribly. With a final vision of terror, Harry let Fleur go. Walking up calmly to her, he knelt down at her side and whispered: "I will kill you if you speak to me that way, Veela. I will make you beg for death if you call me weak."

"No you won't Harry" said Isabelle in a firm voice. Harry looked at her, wanting no more than to tear her apart right there. But he was interrupted as Krum walked up with a stony look.

"You attack vomen, Potter? You haff no honour?" he asked in his gruff voice with disapproval colouring his voice. Harry just got up without replying and went back to his corner. Fleur was just getting up with Isabelle's help and healing magic, seemingly back to normal. But Harry saw the fear he had etched in her and knew that she would be wary of him from now.

The tent flap opened, allowing an overly cheerful Ludo Bagman to bounce into the tent like a moron. Bagman looked at the champions as if they were his meal, and shouted "ARE WE READY?"

The tense atmosphere in the tent was increased as three of the champions shifted their glares from Harry to the maypole in front of them. But the enthusiastic Head of Sports did not notice the mood, instead busily choosing to explain the Task.

"First task is designed to test your daring and magical quick thinking at the highest level. You will be asked to pick up objects from this bag. Ladies first-" he proferred the bag to Fleur excitedly. Fleur reached in a hand to the bag and pulled out a miniature model of a dragon with number 1.

"Swedish short-snout! Excellent! ?"

Isabelle drew out a dragon with number 3 which Bagman identified as a Chinese Fireball. Krum drew out a Nordish Iron-talon with number 2, and the bag finally reached Harry. With barely held excitement, Harry drew out a miniature of a deadly looking dragon with the number 4 on it. Bagman was nearly skipping at this point.

"Hungarian Horntail! , that Dragon there is no pushover!" he said, walking up to the tent flap and looking at the champions before he exited.

"You are expected to retrieve a golden egg from the Dragons" he said. The champions' eyes grew round at this…it was _not _a good idea to attack a Dragon which was also a nesting mother.

"But! The golden egg may or may not be with the other eggs, in which case it will be somewhere on the body of the dragon. It will be stuck with a permanent sticking charm to its surface anyway! So…that's it! Come out when your name is called!" said Bagman and skipped out of the tent.

Harry saw the other three champions look at each other and gulp. Fleur and Krum seemed to be terribly surprised same as him, though he was not showing it. Isabelle, though, was not. He could tell.

The department was obviously interfering again. They had changed the tasks from what he thought they would be…but still his plan held.

_Disgusting Department of Mysteries. I will take care to wipe out that place personally and kill every single operative there with my own hands. When I have the power, I will make sure to torture every one of them ten times worse than they did me,_ he promised himself coldly.

…...

"AAAAND IT IS DONE! ISABELLE SNYDER GETS HER EGG IN A SPECTACULAR FASHION…THE USE OF RUNES WAS UNBELIEVABLE! EXCELLENT!"came the roaring voice of Bagman. Harry grimaced as he heard the approving roar of the massive crowd. He had felt the powerful magic utilized by his fellow champions…too bad he could not copy magic from them.

It was his turn, finally. Allowing his eyes to shift to Eternal Mangekyo, he strode out of the tent with his wand held at his side. His magic was swelling like the ocean itself and he could feel the illusion hiding his Sharingan straining.

"Scores from the judges, please!" said Bagman in his magnified voice, but did not shout out the score. Harry stood at the edge of the champions' entrance to the arena, and entered the moment Bagman roared:

"And now…the youngest champion of the four! Harry Potter facing the Hungarian Horntail!" he yelled. Harry stepped out into the huge arena, feeling the wind wash over him and causing his now long hair to ripple. The hundreds of students and spectators were booing him, and the cameras emitted flashes in a blinding sequence as they clicked pictures of him.

At last, he laid eyes upon the Horntail. He could not stop a cold shiver riding up his spine as he observed the sheer magic the creature contained…and its size. As formidable an opponent as any he had faced, he decided. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hermione biting her nails in fear as he strode fearlessly towards the Dragon which had just noticed him.

He could see the attention of the dragon shifting completely toward him as it focused slitted eyes upon his own, and he could _see_ its surprise as he met its terrible eyes squarely. He felt no fear…for even fear was tortured out of him in Azkaban, along with love.

He dimly heard Bagman shouting something as the crowd yelled, but all his attention was upon the Dragon. Without even hesitating, he flicked his wand and summoned his Firebolt non-verbally. He did not have to wait long as the powerful charm brought the Firebolt soaring into his hands in a matter of seconds.

He noticed that the crowd was now shouting excitedly along with Bagman. Shutting himself off to them, he flew into the air at alarming speeds quickly flying above the dragon. It was time for him to search for the Golden egg. A single glance revealed to him that it was not with the other eggs…this _had _to be difficult. Dumbledore would not settle for anything else, he thought.

He circled the Dragon once, and flew in front of its snout. _As I thought…the egg is right upon its head, _thought Harry as his Sharingan picked up a glint of gold upon the Horntail's head. His Sharingan widened as the Dragon opened its snout and released white-hot flame right at him. But upon a broom he had the speed and the Sharingan…not much could catch him here.

Avoiding the flames neatly he spiralled upwards, rapidly thinking of how to get the egg off the Dragon's _head_ of all places. The Firebolt moved gracefully under Harry's direction, avoiding the Horntail's tail slashes and claw swipes effortlessly.

It was almost too easy…the Eternal Mangekyo helped him predict the Dragon's movements well in advance and the Firebolt moved almost in sync. _The Dragon can't touch me,_ thought Harry to himself as he almost lazily avoided a gout of fire and the dragon's jaws simultaneously.

He could hear the crowd going nuts…it was not often someone outflew a _dragon_ of all things. But for Harry, he could read the Horntail's movements all too well now. He diverted his attention to making a plan to get the egg off the Dragon's head.

Absently dropping low to avoid a sweeping claw, he could conclude only one thing. The counter charm to get the egg off would work best when he was closest. Confident he had read the dragon's patterns well, he shot up like a bullet to the left of the Dragon…as he knew it would, the beast turned its snout to face him.

He hovered in front of its snout and looked right into the Dragon's eyes with his eternal Mangekyo Sharingan, trying to force his illusory magic on the beast through his eternal eyes.

The fire building in the dragon's open mouth died down as its magic fought against Harry's in a battle of control. Harry couldn't _believe_ how hard it fought against his magic…it was like trying to hold back the very tides. With sweat breaking out on his face, he _broke_ through the enormous magic of the beast with the power of his eyes. Harry touched the ground as the thing sank down, its snout almost at ground level.

_The fools will think I am a Legilimencer…all except Dumbledore and her._

He got off his Firebolt, and walked to stand dangerously close to the dragon's snout all the while looking into its eyes. His muscles slowly began to hurt, and his body was surrounded with an aura of red and gold as it embodied power that kept the Dragon's unbelievable violence and magic under submission.

He couldn't hear a single voice from the crowd , it was stunned into silence. Not even Bagman shouted his nonsense anymore…they all seemed to be waiting.

The thing's snout was conveniently as high as he was, so he laid the tip of his wand upon the egg he could barely reach and murmured "_Finite". _The egg came off smoothly and he safely tucked it into his robe pockets with a feeling of rising triumph.

The crowd started shouting its thunderous approval, and Bagman was yelling "BY MERLIN'S MOST BAGGY Y-FRONT'S…WHAT ON _EARTH_ WAS THAT? THAT STUFF WITH LEGILIMENCY OR ILLUSION FAR OUTSTRIPS EVEN SNYDER'S WORK! HE ACTUALLY MADE A _BLOODY_ DRAGON SUBMIT TO-"

Harry, however, did not return to the tent. He felt _drawn_ to the dragon somehow…it was still violently fighting his hold. He cast his broom aside, banishing it to Hermione who caught it with a disbelieving expression.

The crowd began to murmur as Harry did not move from his spot, instead facing down the dragon still staring into his eyes. Power flowed through him in torrents as ruthlessly crushed the Dragon's will with his own, and enslaved its mind with an enormous effort.

_Beautiful, beautiful!_ Crowed the insane voice in his head, and Harry had to agree. For he could completely feel the Dragon's mind and magic…it was as if the beast was his plaything. As he stood before the beast, power rushed through his veins as he commanded the beast with images and feelings:

_Bow down to me._

With wonder and pride, he saw the Dragon's eyes morph into a Sharingan that mirrored his own. Then, the beast stood up and bowed to Harry almost like a trained horse.

_My eyes can control Dragons!_ He thought with exultation. The crowd was now as silent as the grave, not moving an inch. Bagman was murmuring listlessly and Harry could see the Judges standing up and looking towards him with fear and anger. He was tempted to just turn the Dragon on the fools and let them burn in fire and blood.

As he began to end his control over the Dragon, he heard the voice in his mind exclaim in rage: _"NO!"_. A moment later, blood erupted from his side as a spell hit him from behind, causing him to fall down to his knees. His tenuous control over the beast faded as he turned to face the section of the crowd from where the spell originated, and his sheer rage began to increase. For seated in the front row with a serenely smiling face was Fleur Delacour as she stowed her wand in her robes safely.

Seamus Finnegan was pointing at Harry and laughing like a madman. Rage erupted in Harry as he saw the dragon shoot fire high into the air in its anger and roar, stoked all the more after being made to submit.

Harry's anger increased tenfold as he saw the Slytherin section of the crowd join in the laughter, followed by the Hufflepuffs. And all the voices of the students began to chant one thing only, a chant started by Delacour.

"_Weak! Weak! Weak!..."_

Harry's rage boiled over as he heard the one thing he hated beyond anything. He could see Dumbledore looking at him with pity and traces of pride as he signalled to the Dragon-holders to subdue the raging dragon, and he saw the scorn of the other committee members.

"_Weak,WEAK,WEAK…!"_

Weak, was he? That bitch Delacour, he should never have let her off that easy. He would make her _beg_ for death.

Images of his torture came to his mind in a flood and he was once again under the cruciatus screaming in pain. Once again shivering under Dementors, having his bones broken by cruel men. That was the price of weakness.

_No more! No more! _Wailed the crazy voice. With a staggering effort, he got himself under control and raised his head to face the crowd of students that was adding further expletives to their chant.

"POTTER , TO YOUR RIGHT!" came the magnified voice of Ludo Bagman, causing him to turn. His blood ran cold as he saw two other Dragons descending down on him. He was surrounded on all sides by bloodthirsty Dragons that regarded him balefully. He could smell their lust for his death.

_How DARE that Veela bitch spill MY blood? How dare they call ME weak?_ Thought Harry as all the three dragons opened their mouths and bathed him in fire. The crowd screamed, broken from their juvenile chants. Hermione had long since fainted from the anxiety.

"SOMEONE STOP THIS!" Bagman was yelling as fire seemed to bury Harry completely. But neither the judges nor the crowd were moving as if caught up in the terribly out of control Task.

As the fire faded, they could not see Harry Potter anywhere….the ground upon which he stood was completely glass testifying to the power of the Dragon fire.

For the third time, the crowd was silenced. But suddenly they heard a voice yell out a spell, a voice whose owner must be dead by all rights. Harry Potter stood out of the encirclement of the Dragons, making signs with both hand and wand. His face was twisted with unholy anger as he glared at the dragons. The air rippled around Harry as magic literally poured off him like lava from a volcano, and blood drenched his left side completely.

_"HE APPARATED?"_ questioned Bagman with disbelief as the crowd gasped. Dumbledore could see that his young student would do something quite drastic, and was proved right as Harry whirled his wand in a circle and pointed it to the heavens, yelling:

"_FIENDFYRE!"_


	9. Chapter 9

**Too many things happening in my life, dear Readers. I am trying my hardest to update as soon as possible...but this is the best I can do at the moment. Too occupied is what I am.**

**Thank you so much for your continued reading, encouragement and critiques! I truly appreciate it.**

**Regards,**

**Karldin.**

CHAPTER 9

Karkaroff could not believe what he was seeing, no he could _not._ A boy of fourteen years using that spell…dark magic only the Dark Lord and a few others used so easily. For some unknown reason Potter had been truly angered and had cast a forbidden spell.

_Snape could not have taught him that spell,_ reflected Karkaroff as Potter's wand tip began to glow red…and the sky directly above the arena began spinning into a vortex, the clouds a menacing red.

The colour of fire.

Dumbledore and Maxime had stood up and were casting wards all over the stadium. Karkaroff could see the young Potter's face shining with sweat and anger, and was amazed to see him perform one of the most spectacular feats of dark magic.

Dumbledore had begun an ancient Greek incantation and Karkaroff recognized what the Headmaster was doing…a glassy surface spread over all the stands, but not over the arena. Karkaroff couldn't help but feel respect for the Headmaster even if he hated the man beyond anything.

_Illyrian incantation. Old man, who taught you that spell?_ Thought Karkaroff in interest as Dumbledore performed one of the very few magics capable of containing the Fiendfyre. Even then such wards directly sapped the caster's magic. As Fudge often said, no matter what Dumbledore's faults were the man was a prodigious wizard indeed.

_Such talent and power wasted on the Light side,_ thought Karkaroff wistfully. But the young Potter was turning out to be a real enigma. He saw Harry Potter's hair whipping around in the fierce wind caused by the hot sky, and with a roar a vast pillar of Fiendfyre connected the earth and sky for a moment.

_Beautiful. Powerful, _he thought. What prodigy had been unearthed here? If the young Potter were in Durmstrang he could have moulded him into a wizard second only to Lord Voldemort.

He could hear the Dragons screeching and flying away, eager to fly away from the scorching…nay, melting heat of the fire. Basilisks and Chimaeras of fire raged around the arena, burning everything in sight effortlessly. Karkaroff felt a smug sense of satisfaction as he saw Potter standing in the middle of the stadium with his wand held aloft, surrounded by his creatures of fire.

Dumbledore would be in trouble for this. Though the champions were legally allowed to use _any_ magic, Dark spells were often frowned upon. If he capitalized on this properly, he had no doubt he could pull Dumbledore down a few notches.

…..

Hermione cowered, watching with wide eyes as Harry stood in the middle of the arena with the fire raging all about him. The ground was no longer visible…only the white hot fire was.

Occasionally, a basilisk or a chimaera floated upwards but dissipated. When they did Hermione could not help but notice that Harry's eyes glowed a bright red.

_What is this spell? The Dragons are afraid of this fire?_ Thought Hermione in fear as the Dragons roared, staying clear of the fire that raged on the ground. They tried to come on to the stands but were repelled by wards of great power.

Then she saw two of the beasts roar and dive towards Harry and she screamed for him to look out. Harry slashed his wand through the air, and the two huge basilisks of fire formed in the fire that blanketed the arena. Then they shot out high into the air from the fires that had birthed them and wrapped themselves around the Dragons.

The shrieks of pain from the beasts nearly deafened her, and she saw the many spectators watch with numb fascination. Three more fire basilisks were born out of the white hot fire and shot out at the remaining Dragon and captured it.

The fire was hurting the Dragons. The Dragons were trying to fly away but were tightly restrained by the monstrous fire basilisks whose burning tails were still connected to the burning arena.

She saw Harry shout out another spell, the ambient magic around him thrusting even _Fiendfyre_ away. The Basilisks that were simultaneously restraining and burning the Dragons grew larger…and _pulled_ their captives back on to the ground with deafening impact.

Fire exploded everywhere and nearly blinded them, but they were safe. She saw Dumbledore muttering complex incantations as the dust from the explosion cleared, and saw an amazing sight.

The Dragons lay on the ground in front of Harry, surrounded by the three basilisks almost as large as themselves circling around them rapidly. The crowd gasped as they saw the state of the Dragons…they were actually _burnt, _alive but _burnt_. Harry had actually managed to burn a creature of fire!

With another spell, Harry sent his three dragon-size basilisks high into the air along with the remaining fire, and caused them to fuse into a single burning ball of fire. Hermione could see the ball trying to spout out shapes, and the shapes being suppressed immediately.

As the huge ball of Fire shone in the sky like a second sun, Hermione saw what Harry was about to do. _Don't do it, Harry!_ She thought desperately to herself.

But Harry smirked faintly as he felt power and magic flow through his veins in a torrent…he would _show _them just who the most powerful wizard was!

_That's right, burn those filthy dragons. They are our slaves. They should bow and grovel in front of our eyes, instead they attack us?_ Snarled the voice in his head. Harry completely agreed with the voice for once as he exerted all his magic to suppress the massive ball of _Fiendfyre_ he had created.

_This is power_, he thought to himself with a heady feeling as he mastered the _Fiendfyre _with a final effort. The huge sphere of fire was now burning smoothly…he saw Dumbledore shake his head, saw the impostor look at him with enraged eyes.

With his left hand, he wiped the sweat that poured down his face. He looked to the side and saw Fleur Delacour staring at him with absolute fear in her eyes. He _liked_ that! Soon enough, she would learn the cost of attacking him like some sneak thief.

With an enormous effort he brought down the massive ball of Fiendfyre from its position in the sky, consciously controlling its volatile flames. It took every bit of his magic to keep it on its trajectory, and keep it from going out of his control. The dragons moaned piteously as they saw the _Fiendfyre _sphere hurtling at them like a meteor. The sound was deafening.

_Those who try to harm me will not be spared, _he thought coldly. The Dragon he had controlled stopped its moaning and resigned itself to its fate. Harry smiled.

With a deafening circular explosion that blasted outwards, the fire meteor struck one Dragon with lethal force. Harry could only see fire everywhere, but it did not harm him. He could smell burning Dragon…the irony was too sweet. He could see the explosive Fiendfyre crush itself against Dumbledore's wards.

With the raging magic of the Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan, he banished the Fiendfyre into oblivion with a flick of his wand. Abruptly, the fires that consumed almost the entire arena vanished with a whisper.

The devastation that met his Sharingan eyes brought a wide grin to his face. Three Dragons lay unconscious or dead…he did not know or care. All that mattered was he could fight _three _Dragons head on.

The entire arena smelt of molten glass and Dragon, testifying to the consequences of his wrath. As he walked back to the tent calmly he saw the crowd look away in abject fear of his power. No one met his eyes as silence reigned supreme in the stadium, except Dumbledore and Karkaroff.

The Dragon Keepers rushed into the stadium to attend to their beasts, all of them giving him a wide berth.

_First I find out why I faced THREE Dragons, and then I make Delacour pay. The students will get theirs soon enough, _resolved Harry with his spirits raised enormously from the task. He had proved his strength today.

With a single glance, the curtains of the tent parted for him and still he heard not a sound from the arena, not even Bagman's so called commentary. The fools would think before they opposed him again…he held all the cards now. Leverage against the ministry, impression of overwhelming power…he had it all. From now it was a matter of forging his potential into something legendary, something for the next generations to recount in awe.

As he entered the tent, he felt the world was spinning…literally spinning. An exhaustion the likes of which he had never known stole over him in moments and ushered him into the unconscious.

…..

Dumbledore cancelled the wards with a sigh as the danger was now past. The repercussions of this day would be many, both for him and for Harry. But as the young of this generation liked to say, he did not think Harry would 'give a damn'.

If he got his hands on the one who had released those dragons on Harry today…Dumbledore took a breath to consciously control his anger. The Wizarding world would recognize the spell Harry had used, and the boy would be hated because of it.

"Ah, Dumbly-dorr…" murmured Maxime, bringing him out of his musings. Dumbledore looked up to find the crowd still unable to come out of its throes of amazement. Bagman seemed to shake himself out of his stupor, and quietly said:

"Ladies and gentlemen…" the crowd seemed to focus its complete attention upon the erratic sports head. "I am afraid that all three Dragons are out of commission, and gravely injured. There is no doubt that they will require great care and attention if they are to recuperate once more."

Dumbledore almost snorted at this. Dragons were all well and good, but he was concerned more about Harry. Using _Fiendfyre_ in such a manner would be taxing for the young man, for his body was not yet developed enough to channel such powerful magic. Despite his Eternal Mangekyo, such magic would take its toll.

"Such control over magic, such power and command…"continued Bagman in his uncharacteristically solemn voice "comes only once or twice in a generation. To control such flames so expertly is a feat expected of wizards such as Bartemius Crouch or Anatoly Rostov, not a fourteen year old boy. I cannot fault for his actions for he was only defending himself from the onset of three Dragons, and did so admirably. He also got his egg in a most spectacular fashion. So, I call for the judges to mark for this extraordinary performance."

….

It was bright, so very bright. The light stung his eyes and forced him to return to reality. Harry opened his eyes, and saw himself in an all too familiar setting…the Hospital wing. He winced slightly as his body ached, and his eyes too.

He closed his eyes as the light hit him once more. After a few tries he adjusted to the brightness, and fully opened his eyes to see the vision that awaited him. It was obviously morning and with a single glance he cast the _Tempus_ spell to know the date.

It was only one day since he took care of those Dragons. As the memories came rushing back, the door to the empty wing opened letting in Albus Dumbledore.

Dumbledore and two other people in black hooded cloaks…they were all there. He looked to the side and saw Snape staring at him with an unreadable expression. Harry sighed, feeling once more satisfaction at his use of advanced magic.

" , a delight to see you awake especially after your performance in the task!" said Dumbledore cheerfully. Harry did not even blink, instead trying to connect with his magic which seemed to slip out of his grasp like an eel. No way was he going to face Dumbledore in so vulnerable a position.

"Headmaster, my apprentice needs rest. Can you not postpone your _talk_ for a little later? Your retinue is also an unnecessary addition to this entire affair" queried Snape in a sharp voice. The voice in Harry's head laughed aloud causing Harry to grimace.

"I am afraid not, Severus" said Dumbledore seriously. "The department handles cases like these and I am well within my authority to bring in operatives. You will be questioned now, Severus, and I am sure you can guess why. Bernstein, Lexington…please" said Dumbledore, gesturing to Snape.

"I hope you will leave my apprentice unharmed" stated Snape. It was not a question, but Dumbledore nodded solemnly.

Snape just got up and strode towards the door with a flurry of his black robes with the Department wizards behind him. Harry managed to find enough magic in himself to shift his eyes to eternal Mangekyo as he stared at Dumbledore blankly.

Harry made no attempt to speak, he felt a strange calmness in his mind…calming potion. Sharingan could counteract magic, not actual changes in brain chemicals that were induced by these potions. _I must find a way to counteract potions, _he noted absently to himself.

"That was a dangerous thing you did in the arena, Harry" sighed Dumbledore.

"I am sure it was, Dumbledore. Now…I am sure that in your long life you have caused enough misery for a hundred Dark Wizards. What I do not understand is why you are focusing all that experience on me" he said in a cool voice. His Sharingan saw a slight tremor of guilt in the old man's body, and he smiled inside. Their last duel had taught Dumbledore nothing, it seemed.

"I did nothing, Harry. Now, can you please tell me what possessed you to use that spell in such an open area?" asked Dumbledore in a stern voice. Harry closed his eyes, relaxing himself with a sigh.

"None of your business, Headmaster. I was within my rights to use the spell for it is allowed by the contract of the Goblet. Thus, I do not have to answer to you. Now, what I demand to know is this: Why was I attacked by three Dragons?" he asked curiously.

Dumbledore stared at him sternly for a moment longer and spoke softly:

"An Old man's mistake, Harry. I admit to a lack of watchfulness in this task…for which wizard would try to disrupt the task with _all_ headmasters present? I was neglectful, and I deeply apologize for the potential harm in the situation" finished Dumbledore.

"I'm sure" murmured Harry, summoning his wand to himself. "You are using this occurrence to bring Snape under scrutiny, hmm?" Dumbledore nodded sadly, but Harry's eternal eyes saw all too well the satisfaction the man exuded.

"Yes. I am afraid you are learning truly Dark magic if you can control the _Fiendfyre _at so young an age" Dumbledore said firmly. "Professor Snape will no doubt be warned strictly. No more Dark Arts for you, Harry Potter"

"Alright" said Harry. Dumbledore was wasting his time, and Harry wanted him out of his sight as soon as possible. Good thing he was in the Hospital Wing for now.

"I am tired. Leave me" he said to Dumbledore, as he closed his eyes. The fiasco with the Dragons had taught him more about his eyes. But he would _not_ reveal anything about this power to Dumbledore…not ever. He smirked mentally as Dumbledore actually got up, and departed with a threat.

"Recover well, Harry. You will be facing a review board of the ministry after a week for what you did yesterday" he said, and left calmly. Harry frowned as he turned to find Hermione in the bed next to his. His eyes told him that she was fine…but there was a certain chaos to the flow of her magic.

"That spell was a little too much, Potter" came Snape's silky voice. Harry looked at the man and saw pride and frustration warring within him, though his face was as blank as Lockhart's mind. "Apparently, I am being considered for trial. They believe I taught you Dark Magic"

Harry smiled faintly, looking at Hermione. He was very sure she was out due to shock and stress more than anything else, really.

"They won't do anything, Professor" he said grimly. "There is much I can do to undermine them…facts I can release to destroy them. This is exactly why I did not go crying to the _Prophet_ when they released me from Azkaban. As long as Fudge rules the ministry, I can control them to an extent."

Snape too smiled…well as much as he could.

"Appearances. I must congratulate you on your completion of the task…but I must ask you two things. Firstly" he said, creating a privacy curtain effortlessly. "How did you manage to even ignite _Fiendfyre_?"

Harry thought back to that moment, he had literally forced the sentient fire to do his bidding. The power, the magic…the ecstasy of wielding that spell. Harry shivered with pleasure. The Dark Arts were really something he would like to learn in depth.

"I had read about it. I knew the theory well, but to make it manifest itself was a chore. But later…later I could subdue it" he said. "That fire is something I could get used to casting"

Snape was deep in thought as he looked at him. "Then…I will teach you how to cast it properly. I cannot have you expending that much magic just to control it, nor have you collapse at the end. This spell Lord Voldemort himself taught me, and I will teach it to you"

"Voldemort" snorted Harry, shaking his head. "Thank you professor. It is appreciated. Now what was the other thing?"

"How did you escape from the Dragon Fire from three dragons, Potter. The anti-apparition wards there were _a lot_ stronger than those here at Hogwarts" he asked with curiosity burning in his eyes. Harry laughed in pure delight at this question, causing Snape to look at him in askance. His Eternal Mangekyo shone a bright red as he drew upon its power and whispered the second word that had been revealed to him. He knew…he knew that this was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to his eyes.

"_Kamui"_

Harry _bent_ reality around them, distorting it and shaping it towards his destination. He could feel Snape's utter amazement as they appeared in a pure black void. Harry knew he had taken them not to an illusion…but to a very real place.

"This is another reality. My reality" said Harry with his Sharingan burning like living flames. "Unlike Tsukuyomi, this place is true reality independent of the observer's mind. Distances in our real world mean nothing here" he said.

Snape 'walked' around in the endless void, not containing his surprise and awe. "Beautiful. So this is how you escaped the Dragons? Much more versatile than simple apparition." he stated. Harry nodded.

"Yes. The Dragons I am afraid were too strong for me…It appears that my power surfaces during times of near-death or suffering. I learned this word…_Kamui"_ he said, twisting his reality as he wished. His world spiralled as Snape's office came into view.

"Those eyes of yours…they are too powerful" said Snape with a whisper. "To travel through another reality itself…even the Dark Lord cannot conceive of such a thing. What other powers do those eyes hide?"

"I wonder the same thing" said Harry, his desire to discover more increasing a hundredfold. "I even bent Fiendfyre to my will with these eyes. _Fiendfyre" _he said with an upturned palm. A small ball of the cursed fire took shape in his hand, trying consistently to explode out of control. But he held them fast with his will, subduing them completely.

"No mere boy can perform that spell and survive. I am fortunate you are my apprentice, and not some pureblooded ponce." said Snape with wonder and satisfaction. "Let it go, Potter"

Harry let the fire dissipate with a flick of his wrist. Snape began to search around his office for something. Finally frustrated he summoned a small diary of black to his hand.

"Research on Fiendfyre" he said, handing the book to Harry. Harry greedily opened it…and was delighted and stunned. This was a work of great effort and insight. The equations, the description…the methods, the _pure and utter power!_ Snape had given him something that would help him master this spell rapidly and completely.

"Be careful with that book, Potter. I do not think Dumbledore or anyone else for that matter will be too pleased when they find some of my research on Dark Magic" said Snape wryly. With a small grin Harry nodded, knowing the worth of what he had been given.

"Good day, Professor" he said, inclining his head as _Kamui _swallowed him up. The Hospital wing would have no disturbance compared to the common room…and that is what he wished for. He had a book to read.

…..

"I told you to be wary" said Nicholas as he stared Dumbledore down. "I told you to watch out for him…those Dragons were too dangerous. If Perenelle was not suppressing their bloodlust and power, things would have been different"

"I had to contain the Fiendfyre" said Dumbledore morosely. "Illyrian incantations are hard enough to maintain just by myself, you know. I certainly did not expect for him to cast _that_ spell, Professor Flamel"

Nicholas nodded in recognition. "Yes, that is the Sharingan at work. Arcturus' ability with fire was unnatural as well. Harry Potter's talent is being continuously increased by the Sharingan, Albus. He will surpass Arcturus within a few years if he keeps going as he is"

"He is unbalanced" said a voice behind them, and Albus looked to see Perenelle Flamel staring regretfully at Nicholas. "He is broken, Nicholas. The one illusion the Sharingan cannot break is the one the bearer casts upon himself…the illusion of madness"

"Harry is not mad"

Perenelle just glanced at Dumbledore, and he was thrown forcefully into the wall. "I told you your actions over the summer would have a compounded effect. You succeeded in breaking the mind of a child, an innocent. You turned him into something potentially dark! That is as good as killing a unicorn"

She thrust her palm towards Dumbledore, and the Headmaster was picked up and slammed back into the wall with incredible force. Her eyes were blazing, and her face showed pure disgust.

"Enough, Perenelle" said Nicholas softly. Perenelle didn't even look at him, but made directly towards Dumbledore with cold rage. The spell that blasted towards the Headmaster from her upraised hand literally ripped up the stone floor, causing Dumbledore to grip his wand tightly.

The resulting explosion ripped up the entire office, and debris obscured its occupants from sight. "_Flaute" _came a deep voice, and the dust settled leaving the air clean. Dumbledore was standing with his wand outstretched and his eyes wary.

"I could have defended myself" he said, as he stared at Perenelle's now calm face. Nicholas faced him with serious eyes, his hand too raised.

"You will pay your price for your actions, Albus. But that will not be by my wife's hand or mine" said Nicholas Flamel as he took Perenelle's hand.

"Albus, one day you will regret what you have done for your greater good. You will feel the pain of many before you pass on, and you will suffer. For what you have done to my young descendant, I shall not forgive you" said Perenelle in a hard voice. Her lustrous hair seemed to shine as she disappeared in a flash of silver.

"Neither will I, but you are needed. No more missteps. " said Nicholas. Dumbledore just stared with a blank face as Nicholas too disappeared, and his mind churned. There was truly little he could do if Harry's mind were damaged enough to send Perenelle into such a rage.

The mournful song that came from Fawkes managed to move even his heart as he felt unutterable regret at the light he had stolen from the young boy. A boy he was meant to protect. But he steeled himself as Fawkes' song faded into oblivion…some people had to live and die for the greater good.

They just had to.

…..

"What did you say" asked Isabelle with a whitened face. Perenelle nodded, only her eyes showing the pure misery and regret she felt. Nicholas was sitting solemnly as his heartbreakingly beautiful wife spoke with Isabelle.

"I had taken over the Dragons, and I saw traces of his thought in it. He managed to subdue the Dragon's mind with his own…your little brother is broken and shattered. He is unpredictable no matter what face he puts on for the world" she said in a voice that dripped with sadness.

"You had intervened? So that is why they only shot fire at him" said Isabelle with shivering hands. "They have much more at their disposal…I wonder why they simply did not attack him bodily. Thank you, Professor" she said with a voice that shook slightly.

"He is of my brother's line, my dear. I would not let anything happen to him now that I am back…in this we can act. The oaths we bound ourselves with so long ago allow us to protect family. But he is skilled and powerful and it seems he has Arcturus' abilities as well" she said softly. Isabelle whipped her head towards Perenelle.

"He made the Dragon submit to his will completely…I don't think I can do that, Professor" said Isabelle. Nicholas came to sit beside Perenelle, both of them looking solemnly at Isabelle.

"He is suffering and it does not need aggravation, we have new orders for you. Speak with him only if he speaks with you, help only if asked…and always protect him. If anything threatens to interfere with his recovery, deal with it immediately. If Severus Snape interferes with his mental health he must be stopped. More than anything you must be vigilant, for I feel darkness at Hogwarts" said Nicholas.

"I will. Is there…is there any hope that my brother will find peace?" asked Isabelle in a small voice, causing Perenelle to hold her hand warmly.

"There is always hope, Isabelle. Those eyes of his will make it difficult, but there is always hope" she said, looking into her eyes. "I have already shown Albus some of my displeasure at his actions. I am sure he will not interfere with young Harry…well, not more than is required"

"He is so much like mother" she said softly, looking down at her hands. "So much like her. I cannot help but wonder what he would be like if he was with us. I know the future is what matters, but…"

"It's alright, Isabelle. We Wizards have long lives, and you are all still very young. Perhaps your family will find a measure of peace as time passes" said Nicholas. Isabelle nodded, discreetly wiping her moist eyes.

"I will protect him, professors, you can be sure of that. He will be undisturbed as long as I am here" she said, making her way outside the room and disapparating. Nicholas and Perenelle looked at each other, and Perenelle spoke.

"It will be soon, Nicholas. By the turn of the year the Dark will rise again one way or another. Young Harry will need more help than what Severus Snape can provide him" said Perenelle seriously.

"I Agree"

….

Students scurried to the side as Harry walked purposefully towards Flitwick's charms class. He had been declared to be in perfect health by Pomfrey, and was allowed to attend classes from the noon. He could not wait to delve into the book Snape had given him…it was just tempting for him to disappear into the void, and start reading.

"Are you sure you are alright, Harry?" came Hermione's worried voice from his right. Harry just nodded shortly and replied, "I am fine, Hermione. And yourself?"

Hermione blushed faintly. "Me…um, I was afraid for you. I saw you deal with them, that was some very advanced magic Harry. When you fainted I was so very afraid, I thought you died from the exhaustion!"

"Understandable" said Harry as they walked into the classroom and seated themselves in the front row. This class they had with the Ravenclaws, people Harry could tolerate to a certain extent. Hermione was about to reply, when a tearing sound interrupted.

"Oh no!" said Hermione in frustration as her bag split open, spilling forth books and stationery. Harry flicked his wand and the books flew back to place, and the book stitched itself back.

"Thanks" said Hermione, and hefted her bag with difficulty. Harry sighed, and tapped her bag once more. Hermione smiled brightly at Harry when her bag became as light as a feather.

"Was that a weight remover charm, Potter? That is OWL level!" said Terry Boot in a surprised voice. Hermione wore a proud face as the Ravenclaws began to crowd around him enthusiastically. Harry's knowledge of magic made hers look absolutely minute in comparison. It was something that drove her everyday, the challenge to keep up with her rapidly developing friend.

"Yes. Now please leave me alone" said Harry as Padma Patil bombarded him with questions. "No, I will not teach you. Go…" he repeated slowly. When they did not relent he gripped his wand and intoned: "_Expulso"_

Seven Ravenclaws went flying into the desks as the spell hit them violently but their impact was softened considerably as Flitwick walked in. Harry could not help but be impressed by the Charms Master's effortless spellwork. He looked at Harry reproachfully:

"Ravenclaws are eager to learn, . That was not necessary" he said. Harry just shook his head, "I value my personal space Professor"

"We will discuss this later. You are required in the Headmaster's office, . I believe has something to say to all the champions. Something you missed on account of your indisposition, I believe" said Flitwick.

Harry inclined his head to the professor, and exited with a nod to Hermione. The moment he got out of the room, he whispered: _"Kamui"_, drifting into the void and smoothly appearing next to the Gargoyle in front of Dumbledore's office. Pure happiness bubbled inside him at his ability to defy the wards of Hogwarts so blatantly.

"Let me in, Dumbledore" said Harry to the stone Gargoyle. He sighed as the Gargoyle remained as impassive as ever. He found Dumbledore's passwords disgusting, and refused to utter nonsense such as 'Cockroach cluster' or 'Bertie-bott's every-flavored beans'. He raised his hand, deciding to use a password of his own, something that would no doubt guarantee him entry.

"_Fiendfyre"_ he said, holding up white hot fire in his hand as he stared balefully at the thing. He still had to funnel enormous magic to control the spell. "Let me in, or your Gargoyle becomes a pool of slag"

The Gargoyle moved aside, and Harry got up on the revolving staircase coming up to Dumbledore's front door. He tried to open the door by the knob, but it refused to open. He held up the Fiendfyre again, and the door seemed to open automatically.

He let the fire dissipate as he walked in to Dumbledore's beautiful office. Dumbledore was sitting solemnly, his long white beard shining. Gathered around his office were Viktor Krum, Isabelle Snyder and Fleur Delacour.

Harry's anger soared as he saw Delacour; he whipped out his wand and shot a cutting spell directly at her face. She blanched, but was unharmed as the spell was deflected onto the ceiling with no visible effect.

"Harry, stop!" said Isabelle firmly as he slashed his wand again. "_Hastam Tenebrarum" _he snarled, shooting a spear of darkness directly at Delacour's heart. Isabelle waved her wand and caused it to dissipate into wisps.

"_Petrificus Totalus" _said Dumbledore, and they were all frozen in place. Harry's eyes burned as his Sharingan analysed the magic holding them and searched for weaknesses in Dumbledore's spell. His rage at Delacour cooled down considerably as he considered just what he was doing.

He was attacking openly…a foolish mistake. Damn calming potions, their aftereffects were unpredictable and frustrating. He _hated _having his mind manipulated like this.

_Finite Incatatem_, he thought as he smoothly widened the weakness in Dumbledore's spell and slipped out of his hold. Dumbledore watched with amazed eyes as Harry flexed his arms calmly and raised his wand.

"Harry, stop. I know and understand the reasons for your anger, but was not responsible. I promise you!" said Dumbledore urgently. Harry turned his head and saw Fleur looking at him with wide and horrified eyes and knew that Dumbledore told him the truth.

"I will tell you later what you experienced in the arena" he continued gently. Harry controlled himself with an enormous effort, and faced Dumbledore.

"Why am I here?"

Dumbledore relaxed and let go of his petrification. Isabelle immediately went to Fleur's side, stroking her arm soothingly. Krum just looked assessing at Harry. The door opened once more, letting in Bagman.

"Shall we begin" shouted Bagman as he skipped on towards them. He shook Harry's hand enthusiastically, making Harry itch to set him on fire. "Your spell was one for the history books, Potter. No one expected you to even survive after that…that was stunning!" he said enthusiastically. Harry just looked disinterestedly at the floor.

"Ah, Ludo…"said Dumbledore delicately.

"Yes, yes. was indisposed, so we postponed this meeting!" said Bagman. "This is about the second task! Listen carefully, the eggs you retrieved are the clues to the next task. Using them you can deduce the nature of the second task"

"And what was my score?" asked Harry shortly. Bagman glanced at Dumbledore and then replied: "You are four marks short of full, . here tops the score with full marks, I believe?"

"Yes" said Isabelle. Harry clenched his hand into fists…he had to accelerate his training. He could not have his traitorous sister ahead of him any longer than he could help it.

"And, " here Bagman looked regretful. "I am afraid the Triwizard Committee has banned you from participating in future tournaments on account of your use of dangerous dark magic"

"I don't care" said Harry. "I wish for the Minister to be told something. Tell him that his hospitality over the summer will be returned to him if he gets too enthusiastic" said Harry calmly. Bagman just looked confused, but nodded.

"I have become an admirer of your talent, . I will make sure that your message reaches " he said. "See you, Dumbledore" he said and exited the office with a flourish. Dumbledore sighed and turned to the four champions.

"All of you can go. Harry must remain, for I have important things to discuss with him" said Dumbledore. Isabelle seemed to linger for a moment, but she too left with Fleur and Krum. Harry turned to Dumbledore and snarled: "Explain"

Dumbledore just steepled his fingers, choosing his words carefully. "It appears…it appears as if this summer's activities have had more effect on you than intended" he said sorrowfully. Harry's hands began to shake and his Sharingan began spinning. _How dare he…_

"I do not know what you saw in the arena. Well, not entirely. But it was not real. Whatever caused you to use such a dark spell as Fiendfyre did not happen, Harry" said Dumbledore. Harry leant forward menacingly staring Dumbledore right in the eyes. Oh, how he itched to just set Dumbledore's very soul ablaze….

"My Sharingan cannot be put under any illusion. Voldemort himself could not do it" ground out Harry. Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "Yes. You are immune to all illusions…all but the ones you put upon yourself. I am sorry, Harry. More than I can begin to say"

"So, the students laughing at me. Delacour's behaviour…are you saying they are all figments of my imagination? What about the spell that hit me?" asked Harry in a softly dangerous voice. Dumbledore's eyes had widened, but then narrowed in great pity and sorrow.

"The one who set the Dragons upon you no doubt hit you with that spell. But about and the students...I can confirm none of it happened. I will even swear by oath if you find it necessary" said Dumbledore with downcast eyes. Harry did not know how he was keeping his emotions under check. He truly did not…he could feel anger, hatred and rage surging inside him like never before.

"Do it" said Harry.

Twenty minutes later, the voice inside his mind was as silent as ever. He would kill Dumbledore and Voldemort both, if it was the last thing he did. Dumbledore was calling him insane…and the voice that cackled in his head supported the claim. And, for Delacour to make such a move was just foolish…as was the laughing of the students. Dumbledore actually had the gall to torture him and to tell him to his face that he was losing his sanity.

The hate reared up inside him like the Fiendfyre he had released a short while ago. No fate would be horrible enough for Dumbledore and his band of followers.

"You old _traitor_" churned out Harry. "I will make you know suffering, true suffering. One day, you will _die_ for all that you have done to me…I swear it!" said Harry, sealing himself with the Unbreakable Oath. Dumbledore's eyes widened as a tongue of oath-flame settled across Harry's arms, dissipating into them.

Dumbledore looked extremely old as he questioned with a horrified voice. _"What have you done?"_

Harry smiled grimly and made it to the door. "I just swore to kill you, Dumbledore. I was intending to do it anyway, the oath just makes it official. The game has truly begun, and I will not be merciful to anyone who stands in my way. Tell that to your _friends_, Albus"

With his oath grounding his rage and giving him pure focus, Harry exited Dumbledore's office and disappeared into his void and appeared in the Forbidden Forest. The distorting Spiral swallowed him once more, and he appeared upon a tree.

As he saw the vast Forest in its entirety, resolve filled him. His learning was becoming too sluggish, too bookish. He was a warrior…a wielder of the legendary Sharingan. Not a flea bitten librarian who pored over volumes. He needed powerful opponents, and this forest would give him those.

"_Kamui"_

…..

"You can come out now, Isabelle" said Dumbledore after a few long moments. Never had he expected for Harry to make such an oath, never. After this he would have no option but to treat Harry as a liability. The notion sorrowed him beyond measure, but there was no other choice.

"I did not think that anger had taken such a deep root in him" said Dumbledore as Isabelle appeared in front of him. "He has become dark, I fear. The blame lies with me this time…I made him into what he is now. Thus he is my responsibility"

Isabelle stared incredulously at him. "Has become dark…are you alright, Professor? He is rightfully retaliating against you for your unwarranted torture of him, and you call him dark? Are you the light, then?"

Dumbledore sighed.

"I cannot explain it to you, . Harry is…for the lack of words, a threat. I cannot stand by and make my old mistake. I could not stop Tom, but I will stop Harry if he causes any true damage" said the Headmaster with deep sadness.

A flash of light blinded them temporarily, before resolving itself into a tall figure of a man. Sirius stared at the two of them, his expensive black robes fluttering with his arrival.

"Hello, Sirius. It has been a long time. On behalf of the department, I wish to thank you for what you have done for us" said Dumbledore seemingly undisturbed by the arrival of a highly wanted fugitive. Sirius however was looking at Isabelle with a totally comical expression.

"Little Isa?" he asked in an amazed tone, causing Isabelle to break out of her surprise and barrel into him, hugging him tightly. Sirius hugged her back with equal force and shining eyes. "You have become a real head-turner, my dear" he said suavely, causing Isabelle to blush lightly and disengage. "For a moment there, I thought I saw Aunt Dorea come back to life!"

Dumbledore coughed lightly, interrupting the reunion. "I am truly happy that Sirius is back for all intents and purposes, but is this really a risk you should take my boy? Coming here is an unnecessary dimension of danger to your situation"

"Stuff it, Old man" said Sirius carelessly. "Ah, and I heard Harry's oath there in the end. I cannot say I disagree with that, after what you have put him through I would kill you myself" he said in an emotionless tone. "But with Penny and Nick unable to intervene directly, we need you in the future. Else, I would not bother with an oath. When you want to kill someone, do not bother with telling him you will"

Albus shook his head sadly. "If I must bear the hatred of our world so that it can be saved, so be it. Do not castigate me Sirius. Nor must you contact Harry directly, that is a complication not needed at the moment"

Isabelle just shrugged resignedly at this when Sirius looked at her as if he could not believe what Dumbledore was saying. "I believe that is a simplification we do need, Dumbledore. He is my godson and not your personal Azkaban experiment-material. You will get yours soon enough, Harry will see to that. And I will be there right next to him to help him!"

"And I" chimed in Isabelle. Dumbledore just put his head in his hands showing himself in an unnaturally vulnerable moment. Fawkes flashed out of the room, for once lending no comfort to his partner.

"This discussion is moot anyway" he said after a while, his face regaining its resolve. "I will abide as long as our enemies threaten us, this is something Harry or anyone else cannot change. I can only hope he will not make any move against me at this point of time. Even the Centaurs hint at something tumultuous about to occur"

"Elliot" said Sirius, shaking his head. "That old relic. Causes more problems than he solves. Well, Albus…I will be roaming your school at my leisure. I swore to James that I would watch over Harry for him, and that is exactly what I will do"

"Really?" asked Isabelle happily. Maybe with Sirius here, things would take a turn for the better. Sirius nodded, now face to face with Dumbledore.

"There are two alternatives, Dumbledore. One: You give me a post here at Hogwarts, and I stay on as a different person. Two: I will regain my freedom tomorrow, you know how easy it is for me. Then I watch over Harry officially…which do you choose?"

Sirius watched as the old man clasped his hands together solemnly, thinking deeply. Then Dumbledore looked up at Sirius, and spoke: "Welcome to Hogwarts Staff, Dominic Westmarch, Professor of Duelling!"

"Wise choice" said Sirius. "I will see you again, Isabelle. I need to go become a certain Dominic Westmarch, I believe" he said, disappearing with another flash of light. Isabelle just looked disdainfully at Dumbledore, and made her way out.

"I know, Fawkes. I hope is able to correct the consequences of my appalling actions over the summer. I would hate to act against one of my own students to correct my mistakes" said Dumbledore sombrely as Fawkes sang an ethereal song.

…


End file.
